Watch the World Burn
by RiaRevenge
Summary: Cassie Gabriel is the freshest psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum, and guess who her new patient is? She went into it with confidence, but now she finds herself in a situation she may never get out of. OCxJoker pairing. Takes place right after the Dark Knight.
1. Past

So, just to explain a little bit, the main characters in this story will be as follows: Dr. Cassandra Gabriel of Arkham Asylum, our OC. The Joker. Jack White, the Joker before he was the Joker. There will be multiple flashbacks, and these will be indicated by italicized font. Thank you for reading! If you have any other questions, just send me a message. :)

* * *

-beep beep beep-

Jack White rolled over on his shabby twin sized mattress as his hand groped for his cheap alarm clock. He groaned as he read the time: 7:00 a.m.

When the beeping refused to stop, he pulled the clock, wire and all, until the plug disconnected from the wall. Jack lay his head back onto his pillow and sighed.

Today.. today is Friday…

He sat up slowly and ran his fingers through his dark blond, almost brown curly locks, swinging his long legs over the side of his small bed and strolling sleepily towards his cramped bathroom.

Jack turned on his faucet and splashed a bit of water on his face before cutting his eyes toward the water stained mirror above the sink.

A 24 year old man with a chiseled face, curly hair, deep brown eyes and a lean, muscular body stared back at him, the hints of sleep still remaining.

Jack sighed again before jumping in for a quick shower.

After dressing in a pair of dark jeans, a plain white shirt, and the only pair of shoes he owned (which looked like a pair of all-brown, dirty bowling shoes), he raced out of his rundown apartment just in time to catch the number 12 bus, which would take him to the Gotham University campus.

He paid his fare and exited the bus with a few of his fellow students. He slung his black backpack over one shoulder and proceeded to head towards the tallest oak tree on the campus mall, where he saw Emily Haines, his girlfriend of almost one year, sat reading a book. Her layered blonde hair glistened in the morning sun as she continued to read Sense and Sensibility, unaware Jack was approaching her. He couldn't help but smile as he got closer to the oak tree. Jack loved Emily with all of his being. They'd known each other since senior year at Ulysses S. Grant high school, but Jack hadn't worked up the courage to ask her to be his girlfriend until about a year ago, when they both transferred to Gotham U.

He planned to propose to Emily on their one year anniversary next Friday, the 13th of October, with his grandmother's wedding ring.

Jack bent down and scooped up what he thought was a flower without missing a step, finally reaching Emily and plopping down beside her and holding it out.

Emily looked up and smiled sweetly at her lover, before glancing down to see what he held in his hand.

"Oh, Jack," she said, taking the white flower. "My favorite weed! Thank you."

She grinned mischievously at him as his face fell.

"Oh, sorry Em, I thought it was a flower..."

Emily giggled as she tossed the weed aside and took Jack's face in both of her hands, placing a sweet, tender kiss on his mouth. "It's the thought that counts," she said with another kiss.

Jack sighed internally as Emily continued to kiss him. He loved her so much, he'd die for her. He wrapped one toned arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

She broke the kiss and giggled. "Jack! Not here! Besides, it's almost eight. We gotta get to class soon."

Jack groaned in protest, but allowed Emily to stand up and begin her walk towards her PolySci 101 class, waving goodbye. She blew him a kiss and disappeared into the crowd of students now making their way to their various classes.

Jack smiled to himself as he watched Emily walk away. His hand ran over the tiny bulge in his right pocket, which was actually a small velvet box containing his grandmother's diamond ring.

Jack's grin grew wider as he picked up his backpack and headed over to Advanced Chemistry102.

Jack White was majoring in Chemical Engineering, hoping to pursue a career at the infamous Wayne Laboratories. His promising career was already in his sights. He'd recently acquired a paying internship at Wayne Laboratories as the assistant to Dr. Zimmer, the head of the Laboratories.

He couldn't be happier. He had a beautiful, amazing soon-to-be fiance. A career that was so close he could taste it. Everything in Jack White's life was slowly but surely falling into place.

"Mr. White!"

Jack was startled awake by his wacky professor, Dr. Goodman as he was slapped upside the head by a latex gloved hand.

He blinked several times, his eyes adjusting to the bright lights of the lab. It took him a moment to realize that he was just having a nightmare...

_Jack and his older brother Melvin came bounding down the stairs when their mother called them for dinner. They were careful to be quiet with their footing, for they knew that their father was passed out drunk in his bedroom._

_"What's for dinnah, mah?" Melvin asked, sitting down at the tiny table they had stuffed into the even tinier kitchen._

_"Pot roast," Regina White stated proudly. She had just gotten a raise at the hotel she worked at, and was now able to afford better meals for her family._

_"Mmm," a six year old Jack smacked his lips as his mother placed a steaming plate of pot roast and vegetables in front of him. "Thanks, mah."_

_"You're welcome, puddin'," Regina smiled and kissed her youngest son on the head._

_Jack and Melvin quickly and quietly shoveled their dinner into their eager mouths, wincing a little every time someone's fork or knife hit the plate too hard._

_Their mother watched them with obvious love in her eyes as she wiped the counters clean. Suddenly, as her gaze wavered toward her bedroom door, she noticed that it was slowly creaking open, which could only mean one thing._

_"Boys, hurry up, your fathah's comin!"_

_The boys' heads snapped up in fear, their heads slowly turning toward the bedroom door._

_Their drunk, half-naked, badly shaven father came stumbling out of his bedroom, half empty beer bottle in hand, it's contents swishing around inside._

_"Gina... Gina!" he bellowed, staggering towards the kitchen. "Gina, where the fuck are you?"_

_Regina White scurried over to her husband, a full plate of pot roast in hand. She timidly held it out for him before saying "Honey, could you please not use that kinda language in front of Melvin and Jack?"_

_There was a loud clatter as the plate was smacked out of her hands and landed on the floor. Pot roast and vegetables flew everywhere, landing in various places. Another deafening noise, a smack as Melvin Sr.'s open hand met Regina's face._

_"Don't tell me how to fucking talk, woman!" he screamed as she quickly lowered herself to the floor to clean up the mess._

_Jack's eyes were wide as he watched his father come limping towards the kitchen table. He looked Jack directly in the eye, taking a swig from his bottle before he said in a low, menacing voice, "Why so serious?"_

_Then, he reached over and firmly grasped Jack's upper arm, pulling him towards the bedroom. He slammed the door behind him. He shoved Jack toward the bed, where he landed face down, tears welling up in his eyes as he rubbed the tender spot where his father had grabbed him._

_Melvin Sr. stood staring at Jack, muttering drunkenly to himself, taking the occasional swig from his beer._

_Finally, after what seemed like forever, he stumbled his way over to Jack, who was completely scared out of his mind._ _He watched in horror as his demented father lowered his pants and stepped over them to continue on to Jack. After reaching him, he yanked him off the bed and pulled his pants down as well, so that they pooled around his shaking ankles._

_Jack kept his eyes shut tight as he was pushed back down onto the bed. He felt his father's large, calloused hands wrap around his tiny hips before he emitted his scream, his childlike innocence lost forever._

_That night was the first time Jack's father raped him, but definitely not the last. _

Jack's nightmare continued to linger long after his class had finally ended. His thoughts kept trailing back to his long dead father, knowing that no matter how many years had passed, he would never quite recover.

Jack and Emily both lay on his tattered twin mattress, huddled closely together so that neither would fall off. Emily's hand rested on his chest, while his moved, slowly and absentmindedly stroking her hair. He stared at the blank wall opposite the bed, completely lost in thought.

"Jack, baby, did you hear me?"

Jack blinked and looked down at Emily, who was looking up at him expectantly.

"What? I'm sorry, Em, could you repeat that?"

"I said I already made reservations at that fancy Italian restaurant for our anniversary. Is that alright with you?"

Jack smiled and leaned down to kiss her forehead.

"What would I do without you, Emily Haines?"

Emily giggled and said "Not much, Jack White."

He grinned down at her, and she smiled back up at him.

In that one moment, all of his hesitations about proposing flew out the window. This was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, the woman he wanted to start a family with. The woman he wanted to bicker with over silly little things before he wrapped her up in his arms and told her he was sorry, whether it really was his fault or not.

"I love you," he whispered, kissing her forehead again.

She smiled and said "I love you too," before her eyelids slowly drifted closed.


	2. Hospital

"Dr. Jacobs to Pediatrics, Dr. Jacobs to Pediatrics, please."

Cassie Gabriel was barely aware of the hustle and bustle that surrounded her at Gotham General Hospital. She pulled an elastic band from her wrist and tied her long, dark brown hair back in a sloppy bun. Her white sneakers thudded softly on the linoleum floor as she made her way down the hallway to her first check-in.

She took the clipboard from the holder just outside the door and checked the paperwork.

"Good morning, Mrs. Berg," Cassie smiled at her first check-in of the day, Mrs. Heather Berg, who was scheduled for her surgery at noon.

"Good morning, Cassie," the woman smiled, sitting up a little straighter.

Cassie nodded and looked down at the paperwork again before saying "Well, it says here that you're scheduled for your vasectomy at noon, and that the surgery will be performed by Dr. Williams."

Mrs. Berg swallowed nervously and said "Is she, um.. is she a good doctor?"

Cassie smiled encouragingly and said "The best in her field."

Mrs. Berg seemed to be more reassured as she lay back and let out a relieved sigh.

"Alright, well, I'll be back at noon to give you your sedatives. You try and hold out until then, 'kay?"

Mrs. Berg nodded and Cassie left the clipboard on the bedside table and exited the room.

She never got tired of taking care of anyone who needed help. And her internship at Gotham General allowed her to do so everyday. She felt completely at ease every time she entered the fast-moving, adrenaline pumping atmosphere of the surgical ward. Cassie took great pride in doing anything she could to keep the patients comfortable.

As she continued toward the front desk of the ward, Cassie caught a glimpse of her reflection in one of the automatic doors. At 5'3" she war fairly petite for her age. She was thin, but not lacking in curves. Her dark hair nearly reached the centre of her back. Her baby blue eyes were accentuated by a halo of dark lashes, and her plump lips were constantly covered in her favorite shade of lipstick: Paint the Town Red.

The corners of her mouth turned up a little at the sight of her favorite lime green scrubs. Her reverie was interrupted when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She smiled when she noticed who was standing next to her in the reflection.

"Hey, Kevin," she said, turning around and standing on her tippy-toes so as to give her boyfriend a proper kiss.

"Hey, baby," he said against her lips, pulling a brown paper bag from behind his back. "I brought you lunch."

"Aww, well aren't you a sweetheart," she said, taking the bag and peering inside.

"It's grilled cheese," he smiled proudly. "Your favorite."

She grinned wider and allowed Kevin to wrap his strong, muscular arms around her frame, which was tiny in comparison.

"Thank you, sweet pea," Cassie whispered in his ear, planting a quick kiss on his cheek before walking away to tend to the rest of her patients.

"Gabriel!"

She turned when she heard one of the head surgeons, Dr. Williams say her name.

Cassie turned. "Yes, ma'am?"

"We have a situation," Dr. Bethany Williams stated simply, a grim expression on her face.

"What is it, Doctor?"

"We have a stabbing victim here. Problem is, he's also suffered quite a beating and has taken a few bullets to the chest. We're short on staff, so we need you. Now."

As soon as she finished, Dr. Williams turned and trotted back down the way she had come. Cassie followed as best she could, taking three steps for every one of the Doctor's.

"How did he end up like that?" Cassie asked, short of breath. "A gang bang?""Worse," the Doctor growled, rounding a corner into the trauma center. "The Mob."

The drive home to the tiny townhouse she shared with Kevin seemed especially straining that night. With a bit of Cassie's help, Dr. Williams and her partner, Dr. Mosley were able to save the mob victim from certain death. Unfortunately, the damage was so extensive that they practically overdosed him on morphine. However, they were able to record his last spoken words before he went under:

"Carmine Falcone."

Cassie's eyebrows pulled together in frustration, and she chewed on her lip, deep in thought as she drove her lime green VW Bug through downtown Gotham.

She knew the Mob had many strongholds in Gotham. She heard about it almost every day on the news. Drug busts, fraud, raqueteering. Murder. But they always seemed to get away with it. Cassie also knew who Carmine Falcone was, and where he stood in the Mob hierarchy.

She shuddered at the thought of the poor souls who had ever come in contact with him.

Cassie sighed and turned on the radio in a feeble attempt to take her mind off things. It was already tuned to her favorite station, which just so happened to be playing Pretty Fly (For a White Guy) by the Offspring.

Cassie turned up the volume and sang along to the comical lyrics, her subconscious delving into a realm of memories she had not explored in years...

_"...our subject isn't cool, but he fakes it anyway. He may not have a clue, and he may not have style... but everything he lacks, well he makes up in denial..."_

_Cassie Gabriel sat cross-legged in the sciences aisle of the non-fiction section in the Ulysses S. Grant high school library, racking her brain as to why chemistry wasn't considered torture._

_The only class she needed to pass to graduate, and she didn't get any of it._

_She sighed and moaned in frustration over and over again, flipping through page after page of gibberish._

_She was tired of this. What was so important about chemistry anyway?_

_"Give it to me baby!... Uh-huh, uh-huh..."_

_The song that was playing on her walkman was the only thing keeping her from falling asleep. It was the Offspring CD her best friend, Caroline, had given her._

_Cassie nodded her head to the beat and twirled her purple and green pencil between her index and middle finger. She chewed on her bottom lip in concentration, trying to decipher the cryptic codes that lay before her. She stretched out her sleeping legs, groaning._

_Just then, unbeknownst to Cassie, a fellow senior came strolling down the aisle where she sat, his nose buried in a book by Friedrich Nietzsche. Of course he wasn't paying much attention to where he was going, and with a small "Oof!" he tripped over Cassie's outstretched legs, landing in her lap, his face pressed against the inside of his book._

_Cassie took of her headphones and almost nonchalantly said "Excuse you."_

_The boy groaned in pain, lifting his head from the book and assessing the situation._

_Cassie wiggled her legs, and the boy chuckled softly and lifted himself gently from her lap, sitting down across the aisle opposite her._

_"Are you alright?" Cassie asked, eyeing her fellow student with apprehension. He was fairly good looking, with light brown curly hair, brown eyes, a handsome face, and from what she could see, a well-built body._

_"Yeah, yeah, no harm done," he smiled, a twinkle in his eye. She couldn't help but smile back._

_"I'm Jack, by the way," he held out a hand, and she noticed it was large, and strong looking. She took it. "Jack White.""Cassie Gabriel," she said, thankful for the distraction._

_"Cassie.. Cassie Gabriel.. Hey, you're all set to be Valedictorian, aren't you?"_

_She felt the color rise in her cheeks. She giggled nervously. "Yes, I am. Or at least, I was.."_

_Jack looked confused. He leaned forward, his arm resting on his knee. "Well, what happened?"_

_Cassie looked up at him through her eyelashes, slightly taken aback by his question, and her situation. She couldn't understand why this stranger was so curious about such a mundane subject._

_"Um, well.. I'm having a little trouble with one of my classes.."_

_Jack blinked and cocked his head to the side, like a confused puppy._

_"What class?"_

_Cassie scoffed before holding up the textbook she had been trying to read, before she had been interrupted._

_"Chemistry."_

_He blinked again, still staring intently at her with his smoldering brown eyes. And then, his lips formed into a mischievous, almost child-like grin._

_"Well, I can help you with that," he said, leaning forward a bit more, so that the space between their faces was reduced to about half a foot. "I happen to be very good at chemistry."_

_His smile was coy now, like a child who knew a secret about you, and intended to tell it to everyone. She couldn't help but laugh a little._

_"Is that so?" she asked, toying with her headphones._

_"It is," he said, picking up the textbook she had set down._

_"Well..." she started, unsure of how to phrase what she wanted to say. "Would you... would you consider tutoring me?"_

_Jack chuckled softly, before saying "Now Cassie, don't you think you should at least buy me dinner first?"_

_She blinked, unsure of how to answer. She knew he was kidding, of course, but there was a small part of her that wished he wasn't. There was no denying that she was intrigued by Jack White. She'd never noticed him before, and she wondered how she could've missed him._

_It was then that Cassie noticed that he was staring at her again. His eyes lingered on her lips, before flicking back to her eyes. He checked the watch that he wore on his left wrist and sighed._

_"I'm late for swim practice," he said, not quite disappointed. He didn't move a muscle._

_She looked up at him, chewing her bottom lip once more._

_"Well," he said, finally getting to his feet and stretching. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Cassie Gabriel, Valedictorian."_

_She smiled, standing up as well. She noticed that he was at least a good foot taller than her._

_"The pleasure was all mine, Jack White, chemistry enthusiast," Cassie looked up at him with a smile._

_His face suddenly became intense as he reached down and took her hand. He lowered his head a bit and brought her hand to his mouth, kissing it ever so gently._

_"Let me know about the tutoring," his voice was low and husky, despite it's previous high pitch._

_He gave her one last smile before he left her standing there, nearly breathless from her surprise encounter with the man who would later turn her world upside down._


	3. New Patient

So, just to explain what's going on, it's now present day in Gotham. It's been about two years, and Cassie has moved on to become a psychiatrist at the Arkham Asylum. Dr. Jonathon Crane, a.k.a. the Scarecrow's little fear-gas scheme has come and passed, along with G.C.P.D's take-down of the mob, and Batman's capture of a murdering psychopath who calls himself the Joker. Harvey Dent has been replaced by a man named Ronan Fields, and Rachel Dawes has been replaced by one Emily Haines. DA Fields is firmly convinced that the Joker is faking insanity, and that he deserves to be locked up in Blackette Prison, as opposed to Arkham. Dr. Cassie Gabriel was assigned to Joker, and therefore in charge of his diagnosis.

* * *

The sun remained invisible as it rose high over Gotham. Cassie Gabriel drove to work this gloomy Monday morning, the radio off, sunglasses on, despite the apparent lack thereof. The driver side window was open, the wind whipping her long brown hair around her face. She was dressed conservatively, in a pair of black slacks and a loose, low cut white blouse.

As Cassie neared her destination, she fished around in her purse for her ID. This place she worked now was high security.

She pulled her green VW Bug up to the front gates of Arkham Asylum, keeping her window down. The security guard at the toll booth recognized her almost immediately.

"Good morning, Dr. Gabriel," he said in a deep, gravely voice.

"Good morning, Stan," she smiled warmly, handing him her ID. He took it and scanned it, before handing it back to her.

"You have a good day, Doctor," said Stan, waving her on through the now open gate. "You too, Stan."

Cassie drove up the hill a little farther to the employee parking lot, before taking her spot right next to Jeremiah Arkham's. She noticed he was still sitting in his car, a black BMW, smoking the last of his cigarrette before he had to go inside. He stepped out when he noticed Cassie, flicking the butt to the ground and stepping on it.

"Dr. Gabriel," he called, locking his car and walking towards her.

She turned. "Oh! Good morning, Dr. Arkham." She moved her purse from her left shoulder to her right. They began to walk toward the building together.

"How was your weekend?" Jeremiah asked nonchalantly, running a hand over his sandy blonde buzz cut. He'd been rather jumpy lately, and had moved up to two packs a day.

"Oh, it was... alright," replied Cassie, smiling to herself. "Kevin, my boyfriend, proposed."

Dr. Arkham peered over at her, smiling. "Really? Well, congratulations."

"Thank you, Doctor. And your weekend?"

His smile faded slightly as he resisted the urge to hurl his briefcase and scream.

"Well, uh.. the missus, she.. she miscarried again."

Cassie gasped. She placed a hand on Jeremiah's shoulder and squeezed gently.

"I'm sorry, Doctor," she said, true sympathy in her tone.

"It's alright," he said, monotone. "I guess we'll just have to keep trying."

They'd made it to the front entrance of the hospital, and Dr. Arkham punched in the code number to unlock the employee entrance.

"I was actually meaning to talk to you, Dr. Gabriel," he said, holding the door open for her. "It's a rather serious matter."

"What is it, Dr. Arkham?" Cassie asked, curious. They made their way toward the lockerroom, passing the front desk, where the secretary smiled and waved at them. It always amazed Cassie how people could stay so cheerful working in a place like Arkham.

Dr. Arkham waved back. "You are aware of the new patient we have recently recieved."Cassie nodded, unlocking her locker. She took put her white doctor's coat and slipped it on, automatically rolling up the sleeves. "The psychopath who trapped all those people on the ferries?"

Jeremiah Arkham nodded, his face grave. "He calls himself the Joker, remember?"

She scoffed. The Joker. What kind of name was that for a wanna-be crime boss?

"Trust me, Dr. Gabriel," Dr. Arkham warned, his hands shoved inside his suit pockets. "This is no laughing matter."

Cassie did her best to compose herself before she said "Alright. What has he got to do with me, Doctor?"

Jeremiah blinked, surprised by how fast she had caught on.

"Well, I was hoping not to jump to conclusions so quickly..."

Cassie waited.

"He's been assigned to you, Dr. Gabriel."

Cassie's baby blue eyes went wide. She opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again, and then gritted her teeth together. She ran her fingers through her hair, a nervous habit she had picked up quite some time ago.

Her mind was racing. She tried to recall every news broadcast she'd ever seen that involved the Joker.

People had called him everything from a harmless clown to a heartless freak. She'd seen videos he'd sent to the news stations, usually depicting someone he had kidnapped and was planning to kill. She remembered watching in horror as they lowered a man clad in a Batman get-up from the top of city hall, a noose tied around his neck, and a Glasgow smile on his face. She's watched, petrified, as the Joker called in to GCN, threatening to blow up a hospital if Coleman Reese didn't turn up dead in an hour. She'd rushed to Gotham General to attend to her mother, who had suffered a massive heart attack. She'd been safe, of course, and had been transferred to St. Paul's, a hospital near the Palisades. But Cassie could not conceive the idea that an average man had not only the means, but the guts to blow up an entire hospital. She'd been so scared that night, whimpering like a small child at her mother's side.

And even more recently, she's heard the terrible news that both Harvey Dent and his fiancé, Rachel Dawes, had been caught in two explosions. Harvey had survived, but Rachel was blown to bits. Suspected work of the Joker, of course. Harvey, angry and badly burned, had gone M.I.A. shortly afterwards.

And then she'd learned the Joker had been caught, by Batman no less, and she'd felt a huge wave of relief wash over her, thinking that all of this Joker nonsense had been put to rest.

Apparently, she had been wrong.

"Dr. Gabriel?"

Cassie's mind was slowly brought back to reality when she felt Dr. Arkham's soft grip on her upper arm. "Are you alright?"

She nodded, unsure of what to say. To study the Joker, the mastermind behind so many devious and appalling acts, would be an amazing medical opportunity. One part of Cassie was excited about the challenge. On the other hand, she worried about her safety, both physical and psychological, and the safety of her loved ones. Joker was known to be one to play with his food before he ate it.

"Are you up to this, Dr. Gabriel?"

She stared at him with wide eyes. "My other patients."

"Already assigned to other doctors," Jeremiah nodded.

She nodded as well. "My income."

"Will not lower. In fact, I'll raise it."

Her expression did not change. "My family."

"He won't escape, Dr. Gabriel. I promise you. He's being contained in solitary, and watched 24 hours a day."

Cassie continued to gaze at him blankly, but she finally nodded and said "Alright. I'll take him on."

The corners of Dr. Arkham's mouth turned up in a small smile. "Thank you, Doctor. Report to room 103 whenever you're ready."

With that, he left the lockerroom, leaving Cassie alone with her thoughts.

She wanted to believe what Dr. Arkham had said about the Joker having no chance of escaping. But deep in the recesses of her mind, she knew the Joker was not a man to be underestimated.

He had ways.

* * *

Cassie's black heels click-clacked as she made her way to questioning and therapy room 103. The back of her neck was moist from sweat, and her hands shook slightly. She didn't understand why she felt so nervous. The closer she came to room 103, the more labored her breathing became.

Finally, she reached it. Cassie placed her hand firmly on the doorknob and turned.

The room was empty. Cassie sighed in reliefe as she sat down in one of two chairs, placing her clipboard on the table.

She glanced across the room as she waited.

It was windowless, of course, and built of white brick, as most of Arkham was. The room itself was very dull and gray, with a single metal table and two metal chairs, all nailed to the floor to prevent any harmful incidents.. or lawsuits.

Cassie sat and waited, twirling her thumbs and humming a tune she didn't quite recognize. Her head turned. The doorknob was shaking.

The door swung open, revealing a tall, lean silhouette standing at the threshold. The figure stood there for a moment, his face hidden in shadow. He was wearing the standrard orange jumpsuit recquired for Arkham patients. The patch above his right breast read AAC1, and underneath those letters, four numbers: 4479. His hands were tightly bound by a pair of handcuffs.

The man was then pushed from behind, and Cassie realized there was a security guard with him.

Cassie's eyes darted back to the man, and what she saw made her jaw slacken.

He was pale, as white as a piece of paper, perhaps whiter. It took her a moment to realize it wasn't his skin, but face paint. His eyes, dark brown from what she see, were shrouded in black from his cheekbone to his eyebrows. His lips were stained red, and she could barely make out the bumps of two scars, one on each side of his face, that ran from the very corners of his mouth to his cheekbones. The scars, too, were painted red. His hair was noticeably oily, but curly, tinted a sick green, but she could see the brown at his roots.

He held her gaze as he sat down across the table from her. He placed his hands on the table and bowed his head. The security guard, his name Lyle Bolton, from what she could remember, closed and bolted the door behind him, then went to stand behind the man. Cassie straightened the front of her coat and cleared her throat.

Joker's head snapped up, and he eyed her suspiciously. He clasped his hands together and mimicked the thumb twirling she had been doing only moments ago.

She stared, unblinking, at him. It was like watching a bad car wreck. She just couldn't take her eyes away.

Their gazes met, and he held eye contact, his lips spreading over yellow tinted teeth and forming a somewhat satisfied grin.

Cassie broke eye contact, glancing down at the table. She clicked her pen and scribbled something on the clipboard.

"Ahem," the Joker cleared _his _throat then, raising one eyebrow in an expectant manner.

Cassie swallowed hard, trying to orgnaize the thoughts in her head, pulling a voice recorder from her pocket. She pressed the red record button and spoke into it.

"Dr. Gabriel over-seeing patient 4479.."

Joker scoffed, shaking his head slightly. Cassie held the recorder closer to him.

"Please state your name for the record."

The Joker rolled his eyes dramatically, glancing up at Lyle, and then at the recorder.

"Why would I suddenly do that now, Dollface?"

Cassie pursed her lips. "I would like to keep this completely professional. You will address me as Dr. Gabriel."

"Whatever you say, Doc," he smirked at her. His voice was high pitched and arrogant.

Cassie cleared her throat once more and spoke into the recorder herself.

"Prisoner seems to suffer from a manic state of depression..."

"Depression..."

"...delusions of granduer.."

"Granduer.."

"...and possibly an anti-social personality disorder.."

Joker slammed his hand down on the table. Cassie jumped slightly in surprise.

"You make it sound.. so _simple_, Cassandra," he mumbled. "And could we possibly use another term besides 'prisoner'?" His tongue flicked in and out of his mouth as he spoke. "It has all these.. negative connotations."

He ended by smacking his lips.

Her eyes had widened at the sound of this man saying her full name.

"Like.. like I said before: You will address me as Dr. Gabriel."

Joker nodded once and kept his head low, peering up at her through his lashes.

"Well then," he said, his voice low and menacing. "You can address _me_... as Mr. J."


	4. Dinner

"I'll just have a glass of water please," Cassie told the waiter as she looked over her menu. She and her best friend Caroline were sitting at a table in their favorite Italian restaurant, debating on either getting the usual, or trying something new.

They did this on the first Friday of every month, just to catch up and gossip like best friends always do.

"Cassie, really, you should have a drink," Caroline chuckled, sipping her strawberry daiquiri. "God knows you deserve one."

"I'll be okay, Car, really," Cassie said, still eyeing her menu. "Besides, a drink won't fix anything."

Caroline shook her head mid-sip, her straight blond hair swinging gently from side to side. "I strongly disagree with that," she said, smacking her lips.

Cassie shrugged, already noticing that her best friend's gray eyes were glazing over. "I think I'll give the stuffed mezza luna a try this time. What do you think?"

When she didn't receive an answer right away, Cassie glanced up at her best friend, who seemed to be staring off into space. When Cassie followed her stare, she saw who had attained Caroline's attention.

"I don't know about you, but I'd definitely love to give _him_ a try," she said, her voice low and seductive.

Cassie rolled her eyes and scoffed. Caroline, of course, was referring to Bruce Wayne, Gotham's very own billionaire playboy, who just so happened to be sitting at a booth not too far from them. There was a beautiful, busty blond with him, practically sitting in his lap.

"Of course you would."

The rest of the meal continued pleasantly, with Cassie showing off her 2k engagement ring, and Caroline complaining about Rick, her latest boyfriend. Cassie was barely listening.

"...and then he tells me that I'm selfish, when he's the one who bailed on me to go watch a badly dubbed martial arts film with his friends..."

"Uh-huh," Cassie nodded absentmindedly, running her index finger around the edge of her glass.

"...and I know for a fact that he is never going to propose like Kevin, so I should probably just get out now..."

"Okay. You do that."

Cassie couldn't help herself. Since the chatter had quieted down, her mind was allowed to wander, and it wandered back to the demented clown she had had a session with earlier that week...

* * *

_"Well then... you can address me as Mr. J."_

_He leaned forward slightly and winked, before the guard forced him to sit back._

_"Alright then.." Cassie mumbled, writing something else down. "Also, a possible case of advanced psychosis.."_

_The Joker rolled his eyes and smacked his lips, clearly bored with his current predicament._

_Cassie leaned back in her chair, crossed her legs, and folded her hands in her lap, waiting for him to say something else. When he didn't, she watched him._

_His make-up was creased and smeared in random places, such as his forehead, the corners of his eyes and around his nose. He was tan beneath the make-up, she could tell, and so were his arms and his neck. His physicality screamed arrogance, but not necessarily confidence. She noticed the muscled lines of his arms and the broadness of his shoulders. His fingernails needed a cut, and he himself could use a wash, but other than that, he was fairly attractive.._

_She stopped herself. What was she doing? He was a patient, a prisoner. A madman, no less. That's all he would ever be to her. That was all she ever wanted him to be.._

_"I see they've agreed to let you continue to wear your make-up while you're here," she commented, tapping her pen on the clipboard._

_Joker smirked, tracing patterns on the tabletop with his finger._

_"They didn't when I first got here," he muttered, occasionally glancing up at her. "They turned the hoses on me, and gave me a good scrub down."_

_He chuckled every other word and spoke animatedly, with many hand gestures and facial expressions. Cassie listened intently. _

_"So, what I did was... I stole some shoe polish from the janitor. You know, for the eyes," he gestured to his face as he spoke. The handcuffs never seemed to hinder him, as if he was used to having them on._

_"Then, uh, I caught up with an old pal of mine by the name of Dr. Crane... traded for some baby powder to make the face paint. At least, I think it was baby powder..."_

_He trailed off, his eyebrows pulling together in mock concentration. Then he continued._

_"But, I couldn't find anyone crazy enough to give me lipstick! So, what happened was, I ended up having to bite of a guard's finger and use that."_

_His smirk had spread wide into a full blown smile, mischievous and arrogant._

_"After that," he continued, as if he was having a conversation with an old friend, "they pretty much let me have all the make-up products I wanted."_

_He leaned forward again, clicked his tongue in a teasing manner, and winked. Once again, Lyle pulled him back, more forcefully this time._

_"This is your last warning," he said, crossing his arms over his bulking chest._

_Joker rolled his eyes, drumming his fingers against the table._

_Cassie sighed. She soon realized that diagnosing the Joker would be more difficult than she had thought._

_

* * *

_

"Cassie, I am going to get up and leave you behind with the check if you don't snap out of it!"

"Huh?" Cassie blinked, unaware that she had let Caroline ramble on a little too long.

Caroline sighed. "Is there something you want to tell me? Something that we should talk about? Because you've never acted this way before.."

The sound of someone clearing their throat beside them interrupted her. They both turned to look up slowly, only to find none other than Bruce Wayne and his date standing in front of them.

"Pardon our intrusion," he smiled. His voice was suave and masculine, a voice that would make a woman of any age melt. "But aren't you Dr. Cassandra Gabriel?"

Caroline's jaw dropped open as she stared at her friend in complete envy. Cassie blushed, but nodded and said "Yes, I am. And you're the renowned Bruce Wayne."

Bruce laughed, a throaty, hearty chuckle. "Well, I'm not so sure about renowned, Doctor." He held out his hand, and Cassie stood to accept it.

He lowered and gently pressed his lips to the back of her hand. The spot tingled for a moment, and Cassie was taken over by an overwhelming sense of deja vu.

"And by the way," Bruce said with a wink. "Call me Bruce."

"Call me Cassie," she smiled, her face flushing again. "But how do you know who I am?"

"Well, I saw you in the paper yesterday," he said, oblivious to his date, who stood there, fidgeting and annoyed. "The Gotham Times. There was a picture of you and a story about how you were the doctor chosen to oversee the diagnosing of the Joker."

Cassie blinked in surprise, vaguely remembering the press reporter who had caught her on her way out of work on Monday, asking for an interview. "News travels fast," she had thought at the time.

"Oh... oh, right, of course," she said. "That reporter had caught me by surprise."

Bruce chuckled again and said "Well, they tend to do that. It was a fascinating story, nonetheless."

"Well," she started, testing the waters. She didn't want to offend Bruce, knowing he had had a strong, personal connection with the late Rachel Dawes. "The Joker is a fascinating subject.."

Bruce's face turned grave, and his tone was serious.

"Oh, yes. He certainly is."


	5. Therapy

Regular therapy sessions with the Joker had been scheduled for Tuesdays. Monday was no longer Cassie's least favorite day.

She always felt the need to mentally prepare herself for these sessions. If she felt prepared, she was less likely to be mocked or scorned by her less than willing patient. She would write down the standard questions that she was required to ask, and then add in a few of her own.

The problem was, he never gave her a straight answer. They were usually short and abrupt, or complicated and cryptic. Nonetheless, she would record and write down everything he said or did. His movements fascinated her; they were angular and jerky, almost twitchy, which showed a natural instinct to protect oneself that he possibly wasn't aware of. He also had no regard for personal space, but only if the odds were in his favor.

He still wore his make-up in her presence, and he still hadn't given up his true identity. Of course, she wasn't surprised.

On this particular Tuesday morning, she found herself to be second to arrive to room 103. The Joker sat there, toying with the ever present handcuffs. He looked up and smirked as soon as she walked through the door, smoothing back his newly washed hair.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," he mocked, ending with a high pitched chuckle.

Cassie remained silent as she sat across from the man who laughs.

She retrieved the voice recorder from her coat pocket and set it on the table, equi-distant between them. She pressed the record button and inhaled.

"Dr. Gabriel over-seeing patient 4479."

"Blah blah blah, yadda yadda yadda. Could we just get on with it, Dollface?"

She ignored him and continued to speak.

"The patient has agreed to continue these recorded sessions. I've now taken him off of Lithium and put him on a combination of Depakote and Cerraquil."

He chuckled and shook the little bottle of pills she had handed him.

"Ritalin this, Ritalin that," he said, leaning forward slightly, testing his boundaries. Cassie had told Dr. Arkham that it was no longer necessary to have Lyle present for the sessions.

"If I'd have known it would have been this easy to get free drugs, I'd have done this years ago!"

Cassie looked at him scornfully, and said "Why are you telling me that?"

He laughed, a high pitched, from the stomach laugh. It almost hurt her ears.

"Isn't that what these little sessions are about? Me telling you all of my deepest, darkest secrets?"

She sighed, pulling her hair back with a rubber band. When she looked up, the Joker's face was mere inches from her own.

"Did anyone ever tell you, you have lovely eyes?" he said, his tongue revealing itself with every other word. "I mean, they go well with the rest of your face. It's not like I wanna pop 'em outta your skull and put 'em on a key chain."

He made a gesture as if he was holding up a set of keys. Then, as if re-thinking what he had just said, he squinted his eyes in concentration and lowered his voice.

"It's a compliment."

She rolled her eyes in frustration.

"And we're off to a bad start today."

"Well, I'm not a morning person."

Cassie decided to try a different approach this time.

"You've been at Arkham over a month now... How do you like it?"

Joker nodded slowly, contemplating his response.

"It's good," he said after a moment or two, clasping his hands together. "There's just a certain quality that keeps it from feeling like... home."

Cassie nodded in understanding, surprised by his common response.

"And how do you spend your days here?"

"Well, on Mondays, I exercise," he began, using his familiar, animated hand gestures. "And Tuesdays, I'm here with you! Wednesdays.. Wednesday is pizza day. I like that. Thursdays.. I hang out with my pal Carmine Falcone."

He paused, letting this small piece of information sink in. Cassie didn't miss a beat.

"Go on."

He smirked slightly and continued.

"We talk about politics.. the weather.. moral derogation of society. Or at least, I do, he usually just brings up these anecdotes like "Scarecrow... Scarecrow..." Fridays.. I don't like Fridays."

"And why not?"

"Mmm, well, that's the day that that weasel from the DA's office bothers me."

Cassie scoffed, unphazed.

"Mr. Fields is in charge of the prosecution. He's trying to get you sent to Blackette prison by claiming that you're faking insanity."

The Joker laughed maniacally. He clapped his hands together and tried to catch his breath.

"Now, see, that.. that is just ridiculous!"

She decided to provoke him.

"Well, are you faking insanity?"

He stopped laughing suddenly, glaring at her. His humor had left laugh lines through the make-up around his mouth.

"No, I'm not," he growled slowly. "No, I'm not."

He gritted his teeth as Cassie was taken aback. She noted his sudden mood change in the paperwork on her clipboard.

"Oh!" he said suddenly, straightening up. "I almost forgot! I have a present for you, Doc."

Cassie's eyebrows shot up into her bangs. She was tentative to find out what this so-called present was.

"Oh?" she said cautiously. Her voice cracked a bit on that one syllable.

Joker smiled, revealing all of his yellowing teeth.

"Don't you worry your pretty little head," he teased, faking concern. "It's not material."

Cassie relaxed, wondering what it was his deviant little mind had concocted.

"You can ask me," he said, speaking as if to a six year old, "one question about... well, almost anything. And I will answer.. as truthfully as I can."

Her eyes widened in shock. Was he being serious? The possibilities began to simmer in her mind, causing something of a headache.

She wondered about his past.. how he became who he is; what drove him to become Gotham's most wanted criminal.

What happened to this man that turned him into a... psycho?

_Jack could not sit still. The ring and it's little velvet box were burning a hole in his pocket._

_He had decided against proposing on their anniversary. It was too cheesy, too predictable. She would be expecting that. So instead, he had chosen to do it tonight, the night of October 11th, so that they would be able to celebrate two things instead of one on Friday._

_But before the proposal, he had planned to visit and an old friend from high school. He had gotten the call from Peter last night, and was going to see him at the hotel he was staying at this afternoon._

_All in all, a pretty exciting day for Jack White._

_Finally, the lecture had ended, and he had bolted from the classroom and to the parking lot, where his pride and joy, a purple Tranz Am, sat waiting. He fired up the engine and started across town, his destination: the No-Tel Motel in East Gotham._

_He nearly cried from laughing so hard when Peter had told him where he was staying. The No-Tel Motel was infamous for being a place where infidelity took place, and crack heads would hide. Jack chuckled to himself just thinking about it._

_Upon reaching East Gotham, he took a right on 8th and Orchard and parked across the street from the hotel._

_When he entered the lobby, the pungent scent of second-hand smoke mixed with Pine-Sol reached his nostrils. At the front desk, the clerk greeted him with a cordial smile._

_"Checking in?" she asked him, her voice light and tinkling._

_"Uh, actually, no," he said, returning her smile. "I'm just here to see a friend."_

_"Oh! Well, his name and room number?"_

_"I'm not sure about the room number, but his name is Peter Quin."_

_He waited patiently while the clerk looked up Peter on a somewhat ancient computer. He noticed that she was the only one working, and that other than the two of them, the lobby was completely empty. Her nametag read 'Judy'._

_"Peter.. Quin.. Here we go!" she chirped. "He's staying in room 213. If you could please sign in before you head up?"_

_She pushed a guest book towards him, along with a pen. He took the pen, but halfway through signing, he stopped._

_Five lines above his unfinished signature, he saw his girlfriend's signature. Emily Haines._

_His eyebrows pulled together in confusion. What on earth was Emily doing at a hotel, let alone this one?_

_He noted the room number, 324, and finished his signature._

_Peter would have to wait._

Joker sat across from Cassie, fidgeting impatiently as he continued to wait for her to ask him a question.

"Tick tock, tick tock," he muttered, chuckling to himself.

Cassie ignored him. Clearly patience was a virtue he had never learned.

"Tell you what," he said, leaning back in his chair. "I'll think of a question for you. And later, if you think of a question on your own, you can ask me then, kay?"

She stared at him in disbelief. Was he actually being rational?

She nodded slowly, and he smirked.

"You wanna know how I got these scars?" he said, his voice dripping with irony. He gestured to his Glasgow smile, painted red.

She eyed him suspiciously.

"Are you going to tell me the truth, or another lie?"

He laughed, composing himself after a few moments, pretending to wipe a stray tear from his eye.

"Well, which versions have you heard?" He smacked his lips.

"There was one about a drunk father out of control," she began, retrieving the memories. "And the other I was present to hear. It was a story about how you had a wife.. who gambled. And she got in debt with some loan sharks... and they screwed up her face.."

She faltered, remembering what he had said next. It had pulled at her heartstrings, and she had actually felt sorry for him.

"...and that you just wanted to see her smile again. So you cut your own face. And she left you."

She half expected him to burst out laughing, but instead she looked up to find him smiling in admiration.

"Very good, doctor," he said, his voice dropping a good octave. "You've been studying."

She blushed and bit her lip, fighting the urge to smile. She was snapped back to reality when she remembered who she was dealing with.

"So, what's the real version? The truth?"

He chuckled darkly before saying "See, there's a reason I change the story every time."

Cassie's eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"It's because.. I feel that if I'm _going_ to have a past.. I'd prefer it to be multiple choice!"

His laugh was so high pitched and shrill that it almost seemed as if the room wouldn't be able to contain it.

Cassie sighed, soon realizing she was only going to get another lie.

"So, do you want to know, or not?"

She leaned back and stared at him expectantly.

He began, trying his best to keep a straight face.

"A couple years ago... I was having a really rough time. I had just lost my-"

"How old were you at the time?"

He stopped and slowly raised his dark eyes to glare at Cassie.

"Don't interrupt," he snarled, licking his lips. She made no sound or movement, and he took his chance to continue.

"Like I was _saying_... I had just lost my job. I was behind on my rent. And my girlfriend, who had always been a bit of a slut, had broken up with me. So, I felt I had the right to walk to the bar around the corner and treat myself to a drink. Well... one drink turned into about five, and as you can guess, I was drunk off my mind."

He stopped; a dramatic pause. Cassie tried picturing him in such a place of normality.

It was very difficult visualizing this man as your everyday Average Joe.

He continued. "There was a big, bald biker guy sitting next to me at the counter. Now, in my drunken state, I found his appearance rather... comical. It didn't make sense, but I just started.. laughing! Laughing so much I was doubled over and tears were streaming down my face! Now, this man.. this biker, well he didn't like that. Not one bit. So, he turns to me and says 'What's so funny?'"

He dropped his voice in order to mimic the man he was talking about. "Now, I was laughing so hard I couldn't speak, so instead, I pointed at his face. Next thing I know, he's got me by the collar of my shirt and is dragging me outside. He slams me up against the wall and punches me in the face, breaking my nose. I buckled and fell to the ground with him standing over me. He pulls out a switchblade. Now by then, I had stopped laughing. He came at me with the knife, leering as he says 'Why so serious?' And..."

He points at his face. "The rest is history."


	6. Amour Dangereux

Now before I begin this chapter, I would appreciate it if all of you read this.

A few of you fine readers have taken the time to review my story Watch the World Burn, and have pointed out that it seemed as if I had copied the very popular youtube series The Joker Blogs, in verbatim. This is basically a disclaimer. Although I am a huge fan, and I do draw plenty of inspiration from it, I do not own the Joker Blogs in any way. Now, to those few readers, I would just like to say that I wish you had been patient and waited for future chapters to be posted, because then you would have seen that I do, in fact, have an imagination. Thank you, that is all. Enjoy the chapter!

* * *

-Flashback Continued-

_322... 323... 324..._

_Jack stopped walking once he had reached what was supposedly Emily's room._

_He paused for a moment, put his ear to the door and listened._

_He couldn't hear anything. No one talking, no noises, not even a TV. So, he knocked, hard, three times._

_Seconds passed. Then minutes. Finally, Jack was forced to knock again._

_"Um, coming!" He heard Emily say in a petrified voice. He heard stumbling, voices, and finally, the chain on the door being removed._

_The door opened, and there Emily stood, hugging a towel tightly around her petite body, her hair a tangled mess, and her skin shiny from sweat. Her green eyes widened when she saw Jack._

_"Who is it, Emily, baby?" said a voice, deep and masculine. Emily looked behind her in panic as Dr. Eric Zimmer, the supervisor at Wayne Laboratories, and also the person who had awarded Jack with his internship, came strolling out of the bathroom, completely naked and embarrassingly hard. He stopped dead when he saw Jack standing on the threshold._

_"Emily, what is this?" Jack bellowed, his eyes darting between his girlfriend and his boss._

_"Uh... Well, Jack, sweetie, there's uh... something... I have to tell you.." Emily stammered, her blush growing deeper with every word._

_"I think I can see it for myself, thanks!" Jack screamed, his voice getting higher and higher._

_"White, it's not what you think," Eric started, walking slowly over to Jack, still naked and still hard._

_"_SHUT UP!_"_

_Jack charged toward Eric, his intentions to rip him limb from limb. How could he do this? How could he take his _Emily_ away?_

_But he was met with a fist to his jaw, and he staggered back, blood dripping from his lip._

_"Jack! Eric! Stop it!" Emily squealed, rushing to Jack's side. He pushed her away, and she stumbled into the desk and fell to the floor._

_"I want you _out_ of my life," Jack warned, his voice low and menacing._

_And with that, Jack yanked the box from his pocket and tossed it to the floor at Emily's feet, slamming the door behind him._

Cassie sat patiently in Dr. Arkham's office, her legs crossed and her hands clasped in her lap. Jeremiah had asked her to come to his office as soon as she could on Tuesday, before she attended her weekly session with patient 4479.

To occupy the time, Cassie glanced around curiously, taking in the sights. She'd never been in Dr. Arkham's office before.

It had a spectacular view of the skyline, which probably looked better at night, when all of Gotham lit up like a Christmas tree. There was a large mahogany desk with a computer, a desk lamp, scattered paperwork, a picture of his wife, and a nameplate that read 'Dr. J. Arkham'. Behind her, there was a bookshelf attached to the wall, stocked with encyclopedia volumes and medical journals.

It was slightly larger and definitely had a better view than the office Cassie had inherited from Dr. Crane after the fear-toxin incident.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Dr. Gabriel," Jeremiah said as he walked through the door, which he shut behind him.

"Not at all, Dr. Arkham."

He sat down in the chair behind his desk, shuffled some papers around, straightened the picture of his wife, and then laid his dark green eyes on Cassie.

"I wanted to discuss the progress that you have, or have _not_, been making with your patient, Dr. Gabriel," he said, his tone serious. "Mr. Fields has been here day and night listening to the recordings and going over the notes you have taken, and let me tell you, he is not happy."

Cassie's brows furrowed in confusion. She had only been given a few months to study the Joker. Did Fields expect a miracle? A diagnosis after four months? Maybe for the average patients.. But definitely not for this man.

"What exactly would you like to know, Doctor?" she said slowly, with a hint of sarcasm.

"I guess what both DA Fields and myself would like to know is whether your patient is making any progress. If he's responding positively to the medication he's been given, or if we need to up the doses and give you more time."

Cassie was growing angrier by the minute. He had basically just questioned whether she was really capable of being the Joker's doctor or not.

"Or, possibly, if he should have a change of medication. Possibly a change of doctor..?"

Cassie pursed her lips and lowered her eyes. This was more than she could bear.

"Dr. Arkham, the Joker is _my_ patient, and my patient alone. I ask that you not question my ability as his doctor, because frankly, it's a little insulting. A diagnosis on this man is not a possibility after four months, if I am able to diagnose him at all. But time is of the essence here, and I would like the chance to continue my sessions, whether Mr. Fields is agreeable, or not."

Dr. Arkham looked stunned. His mouth was agape, and he blinked a few times before clearing his throat.

"Alright then. I suppose we're done here.. for now. I'll let you, uh, let you attend to your patient now."

"Thank you, Doctor," Cassie said, trying to keep the sarcasm at bay. She left the office feeling rather proud of herself.

Once Cassie had gathered the necessities from her office, she made her way to room 103. After so many months, she had stopped feeling intimidated by her patient. Their relationship had somewhat improved, while staying inside the boundaries of doctor to patient.

She opened the door to the room, but didn't enter when she saw a man who didn't look like her patient at first glance. But when she did a double take, she saw the green hair and the obvious facial scars.

He turned to face her, smiling, raised his arms in a grand gesture and said "Tah-dah!"

She opened her mouth to speak, but then shut it again, entering the room and closing the door behind her.

"Surprise!" Joker said, still smiling as Cassie sat down across from him. She didn't speak, but instead took her clipboard and pretended to write something down so she wouldn't stare.

He was definitely handsome. His face was the same shade as his arms and neck, and his dark eyes were actually very pretty without all the black surrounding them. His lips were stained a faded red from all of the previous uses of lipstick, and he had a somewhat chiseled bone structure. The only flaw was the Glasgow smile, which distorted his smooth cheeks because of the rough stitching.

Finally, she looked up, to find that his smile had faded into a grimace.

"You alright there, Doc?" he sneered, folding his arms across his chest.

Again, she said nothing. But she chose to stare. In a burlesque way, he was sort of beautiful. Certainly not what she had expected to see underneath the face paint.

She cleared her throat and said "I don't understand. Why _now_?"

He scrunched up his face as if he was deep in thought, tapping his finger against his lips.

"Well, I guess I just didn't feel like it today," he said, grinning once more.

She almost wanted to laugh at this. He was messing with her head, of course, forcing her to think something and believe something else.

Well, it was a very good attempt on his part.

She gave him a look of contempt before taking out the voice recorder, placing it on the table and pressing the record button.

"Dr. Gabriel over-seeing patient 4479.."

She trailed off, catching his eye halfway through her sentence.

She once again felt that overwhelming sense of deja vu, like a wave crashing down on her entire being. But this time, she knew what was causing it.

It was him, the _Joker_. She was shocked that she hadn't seen it before now.

She knew him. Deep down, she realized that she knew this man, this murderer, this psychopath from another time in her life. They had met, they had talked, they had parted ways, but nonetheless, she knew him. But his exact identity remained a mystery.

"What's the matter now?" he jeered, locking his hands behind his head in a relaxed gesture. "Joker got your tongue?"

"I _know_ you," she blurted out, unable to contain it any longer. "I know you from somewhere. Your face is so.. _familiar_."

"Well, you've probably seen me on the evening news," he said, smirking. "Not to mention a few mug shots, some Wanted posters, oh, and don't forget that we've been having these little sessions for quite some time now."

He raised his eyebrows, as if to say 'Duh!'.

"No, no, that's not that I meant," she muttered, on the verge of panic now. "I mean, I know you from before all that. I've met you before you became.. who you are now."

He giggled shrilly, watching her like she was the crazy person, and he was the doctor.

But she'd already made up her mind.

"Come here," she said, standing and crossing to the side of the room farthest from the door, where the table was no longer between them.

"What for?" he said, suspicious.

"Just.. come here for one second, please."

He didn't take his eyes from her as he got up slowly. He stood in front of her, about a foot away.

She hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether a doctor touching their patient was allowed here. She shrugged and figured that no one would have to know anyway.

She began with his face, placing her hands on both of his cheeks. His eyes closed and he exhaled deeply.

She ran her fingers across everything, from the corners of his eyes, across his scars, to his lips, tracing the contours of his mouth. He was breathing slowly, in and out, and his eyes remained closed.

She still could not place his face anywhere in her sudden memory. It would be eating at her all night...

Suddenly, while her fingertips still touched his lips, his eyes snapped open. He grabbed her wrists and slammed her up against the wall, pinning her there with his body.

And, just as suddenly, he kissed her, smashed his lips against hers. It was rough, forceful.

She melted. Her body gave her away almost immediately, reacting to the kiss as if it was a normal happening.

In the back of her head, she was disgusted, even a tad repulsed. But she could not deny the fact that she was enjoying it as well.

Somewhere far away, she heard the door open, and someone shouted her name.

But she was lost, lost in limbo where the normal and the rational did not exist.


	7. Mind Plague

Thinking about the kiss was what kept Cassie awake that night. She lay on her back on the left side of the bed she shared with Kevin, her hands folded on her stomach, staring at the ceiling. She tried telling herself that she hadn't enjoyed it, that it was a huge mistake, an accident out of her control that was never going to happen again.

But a tiny voice in the back of her mind kept telling her differently. It nagged at her as she tried to sleep, arguing with her, telling her that she _had_ liked it, that she _did _want it to happen again. But no, that was not going to happen. It was unethical, completely out of the question. She wouldn't allow it. She loved Kevin, and soon, they would be married. He was the one that she wanted to be with for the rest of her life..

Kevin's snores had gone from a nasally snarl to a soft, deep breathing that kept a steady rhythm with her heartbeat.

Another thing plagued Cassie's mind. The fact that she knew what the Joker's identity was, even if she couldn't put a name to the face yet. She rifled through the memories stored in her head, trying to recreate every insignificant person, every face she had ever come in contact with, but still she came up empty handed.

Suddenly, she had an idea. It was a feeble hope that would probably disappoint her, but she decided to give it a try anyway.

She slowly and carefully sat up and got out of bed, careful not to make any noise as she padded across the creaky wood floors. But Kevin was a light sleeper.

"Mmmgh, Cassie, is that you?"

She didn't stop moving when his groggy voice reached her ears. Instead, she continued towards their walk-in closet and clicked on the overhead light.

"Yeah, Kev, it's me," she said, taking the footstool that sat by her shoe rack and placing it beneath the highest shelf.

"What're you doing, baby? It's two o'clock in the morning..." He trailed off into a yawn.

"I'm just.. looking for something." Cassie searched the top shelf for her high school

yearbook from her senior year, hoping it would give her some answers.

"You always were such a night owl," Kevin groaned, pulling the covers over his head to block out the light. She smiled slightly at his comment, and her smile widened when she found it, her Grant High School senior yearbook, collecting dust in the farthest corner of the shelf.

She brought it down and perched on the edge of the bed, blowing off the dust and opening it.

She began her search with the entire senior class, looking for his face among the 1,000 or so that she had graduated with. At first, she had no luck, but halfway through the Ws, she was convinced she had found him.

There, she saw the picture of Jack White, and all of her memories came flooding back to her. Their first meeting in the school library, the tutoring. That almost first kiss...

_"Alright, Cassie, let's try this again," Jack said slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose in slight frustration. Cassie bit her lip nervously, because she knew she was a much worse student than Jack had thought she would be._

_"What is the atomic number for Arsenic?"_

_Cassie tried to scan the page of her chemistry book that contained the Periodic Table of Elements without being noticed by her tutor, but she couldn't remember the symbol for Arsenic either. She sighed in exasperation as she cast a 'sorry' look at him._

_He sighed. "Thirty-three. The atomic number for Arsenic is thirty-three. And just in case you were wondering, the symbol is A-S."_

_She smiled timidly, feeling her joints pop as she stretched. They had been shut up in the stuffy Gotham County Main Library for a good portion of the afternoon, and Cassie desperately wanted out. The sky only held a fraction of its usual clouds, and the sun shone through the window high above, illuminating the dust motes that were swirling around their heads. She'd gotten a little better with honing her knowledge of chemistry, _

_but she felt she had had enough for one day._

_"Well, can you at least give me the symbol and atomic number for gold? That should be easy enough."_

_Gold... gold... Cassie knew this. It was on the tip of her tongue.._

_"The atomic number for gold is seventy-nine... And the symbol for gold is... G-O?"_

_Jack smiled bitterly and shook his head slightly._

_"Well, you got half of that right. I guess it was a tricky one, seeing as the actual symbol for gold is A-U."_

_Cassie groaned. She sucked at life._

_"See? I told you I was a hopeless cause.."_

_"You're not a hopeless cause," said Jack, smiling warmly at her. "You're just a tad slow today. Maybe we should call it a day, hmm?"_

_She clapped her hands in delight and slammed the book shut, already gathering her things into her tote bag._

_Jack chuckled and started gathering his own things. During this time, they both reached for the same notebook, their fingers brushing ever so slightly. They both retracted their hands quickly, and Cassie felt the heat rise in her cheeks as Jack, also blushing, quickly shoved the notebook into his backpack._

_"Say, it's a beautiful day. Why don't we go get some ice cream and go for a walk?" he suggested, his voice small and quiet._

_"Okay," Cassie happily agreed._

_She was a little afraid to admit it, considering she already had a boyfriend, but she was beginning to develop very strong feelings for Jack. He was smart, funny, good looking, but there were also the times when he was so introverted he would barely speak, and whenever that happened, the only thing she wanted to do was scoop him up in her arms and kiss away those dark circles under his eyes._

_There were days when this almost seemed acceptable, but she was always afraid of his reaction. Would he kiss her back? Push her away? Would he not respond at all and just sit there? She thought that the latter was what she was most scared of. Acceptance and rejection she could handle. Apathy, well, she wasn't so sure._

_"Ready?" she heard him say. She had been so lost in thought, she'd almost forgotten he was waiting for her._

_"Um, yeah," she replied, following him out of the library and into the rare sunshine of an afternoon in Gotham City._

_Since Cassie had taken the bus to the library, Jack suggested that they take his car. She quickly agreed, possibly a little too quickly, because a knowing smile spread across his face. He led her to the library parking lot, where he stopped to unlock a purple Tranz Am, possibly the newest model, by the looks of it._

_"Wow," said Cassie, nodding in approval._

_"Isn't she beautiful?" Jack sighed, patting the hood lovingly. He opened the door for Cassie, and then got in, starting the engine._

_They drove until they reached a Dairy Queen that was near the Gotham City Gardens. Both Jack and Cassie ordered chocolate covered waffle cones, although she asked for mint chocolate chip, while he chose Rocky Road. They left his car parked at the DQ and walked the couple blocks to the park. Jack led her to a path that wrapped around the pond that was the center of the Gardens._

_"So," Cassie started, hoping to strike up a conversation that didn't involve chemistry. "Am I as bad a student as I think I am?"_

_Jack laughed, the corners of his deep brown eyes crinkling with his smile. Cassie couldn't help but smile herself._

_"You, Cassie Gabriel, actually happen to be a very good student. You try your hardest, and that's all any teacher, or tutor, could ask for."_

_Cassie felt herself blush again at his flattery. She hid it by taking a bite of her cone._

_"Well, I certainly am a lot better off now, thanks to you."_

_They continued to circle the pond a few more times, occasionally bumping into each other as they swayed._

_They talked about nothing for the rest of the afternoon, touching on graduation, their plans for after graduation, and their families, although Jack seemed a little uncomfortable with talking about his home life. He did become very animated, however, when he began talking about the internship he had recently acquired from the Wayne Industry Laboratories. Cassie enjoyed watching him as he spoke, the way his eyes lit up and his voice rose a couple octaves. She was having such a good time that she didn't notice the green kite with the violet tail that was cascading down from the dimming sky and heading straight towards her._

_"Ahhhg!" Cassie yelped as the kite took her by surprise. She lost her step and went tumbling into the pond. Jack had tried catching her, but she had ended up pulling him down with her instead._

_They landed in the small pond with a tremendous splash, the kite slowly drifting down to land on the rippling surface._

_Cassie immediately began to panic. She'd never learned how to swim. Her entire life she'd been afraid of water, and now she thought she was having a near death experience._

_"Help!" she screamed, flailing her arms and trying to keep her head above the water. "Help me, Jack, please!"_

_Amidst all of her yelling and panicking, Cassie felt two strong, muscular arms wrap around her waist, and pull her close to something warm and solid._

_"Cassie, Cassie, it's okay, I've got you!"_

_She stopped flailing once she realized that the something warm and solid was Jack's torso, and that his arms were the only thing keeping her afloat._

_"Cassie, Cassie, honey, you can stand! It's only four feet deep!"_

_Cassie continued to kick her feet rapidly, despite the fact that Jack was right. He sighed and gripped her upper arms tightly. He lifted her, and she was forced to plant her feet on the squishy pond floor._

_"Oh!" she gasped, ceasing the lashing of her arms. Jack let go, and she balanced herself._

_"See? Told you," Jack was grinning from ear to ear, obviously amused._

_Cassie's face had turned the deepest shade of red, and she refused to meet his gaze_

_They stood there, rings of water surrounding them as they broke the surface. After a few moments, Cassie felt Jack's hand, rough, calloused, and gentle simultaneously, cup her right cheek. His fingers brushed a strand of wet hair that clung to her lips away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. She looked up in surprise, their faces mere inches apart. She could feel his hot breath; it tingled on her wet lips and cheeks. His hand had traveled to the back of her head, gently tugging her forward. She closed her eyes. Three inches now... two... one..._

_"Cassie?"_

_Cassie jerked away from Jack when she heard a familiar voice call her name. She looked up to see her older brother, Alexander, taking long strides down the path towards the pond. He looked happy to see her, but underneath, she could tell he was upset._

_"Alex!" Cassie waded over to the edge of the pond, using her hands to push her forward in the water. When she reached the edge, Alex held out his hand to help her out._

_There was a chilling wind that had started to blow, and Cassie hugged herself, shivering. Alex removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders._

_"What happened?" he chuckled, rubbing her back. Jack had come to join them, soaking wet._

_"I... we-we fell in," Cassie stuttered, gesturing to herself and Jack. "Alex, this is Jack White.. a good friend. Jack, this is my brother, Alex Gabriel."_

_Alex and Jack exchanged polite greetings and shook hands. Then Alex faced Cassie again, a somber expression dominating his face._

_"I have... bad news," he said, his voice grave._

_Worst scenarios began to plague Cassie's mind. Was it their mother? Did something happen?_

_"Dad.. dad is.. Cassie, he's dead. He died last night."_

Cassie knew it was him. It had to be. She believed it with every fiber of her being.

She was silent at breakfast that morning. Cassie and Kevin always ate breakfast together, even if it was just a granola bar and some yogurt. It gave them time, whether a few minutes or half an hour, to catch up with each other, for both of their jobs took tolls on their personal lives.

"My mother wants to know if carnations would be alright for the centerpieces," Kevin said, assuming Cassie was listening. He drained his glass of orange juice while Cassie sat stock still, staring at her untouched cereal.

"Cassie? Hello?" Kevin snapped his fingers in her face. She blinked and looked up.

"Huh? What is it?" Cassie cocked her head to the side in confusion.

"I asked you a question."

Had he? She could barely hear him.

"Oh. Um, no, no carnations. I hate carnations."

"Well, what then?" She could tell he was becoming aggravated. Kevin wasn't used to being ignored.

"Lilies. I've told her time and time again that I want lilies for everything. The centerpieces, my bouquet, everything."

He nodded once, then said "Alright. Fine. I'm going to work. I don't know if I'll be coming home tonight."

Kevin stood abruptly from the table, clearing his place mat. As the sunlight flooded in from the window above the sink and hit his face, Cassie noticed just how truly perfect he was.

He had messy, unkempt, shiny brown hair that looked good on him. His eyes were an ivy like green, and his teeth were perfect, thanks to three years of braces. He maintained is body impeccably. He wasn't short, but he wasn't too tall either.

It was too much. He was too perfect.

"Bye, Kevin," she whispered, her lips barely moving.


	8. Sweet Dreams

Once again, this chapter heavily influenced by The Joker Blogs, which I do not own in any way. If you have absolutely no idea what that is, then I suggest you go find out: .

* * *

"We need to discuss what happened last week."

Joker eyed Cassie, beaming. He took one of the little white pills out of their container, placed it on his tongue, and bit down hard. The pill crunched obnoxiously.

"I couldn't agree more, Harley."

Cassie's head snapped up in surprise.

"What - how..? How did you..?"

He let out a high snicker before saying "That's for me to know, and for you to never find out."

Harley was Cassie's middle name, her entire name being Cassandra Harley Gabriel.

Her father had had quite a fascination for motorcycles.

"Ohhh, you don't mind, do you?" Joker leaned forward, faking concern. "I think it's a pretty name. Better than _Cassandra_, anyway!"

Cassie gritted her teeth and shook her head in frustration. He really knew how to push her buttons.

"Anyway," he continued, chomping down another pill. "You wanted to talk to me about something, hmm?"

She eyed the recorder on the table, contemplating on whether she should leave it on, or not. Would Mr. Fields be listening to this specific recording any time soon? She doubted it. He still had two more months' worth of recordings to go through.

"The kiss," she said, simply, crossing her arms.

"Oh," he said, sucking his teeth. "That."

She nodded, inviting him to continue. He didn't. She sighed.

"Was there a motive behind it? Did you plan it? Deciding not to wear your face paint so that I would 'recognize' you so that you could get close to me?"

"So many questions, so little time." He tapped his fingers on the table, no doubt enjoying the lack of handcuffs.

All these cryptic lines were starting to take a toll on Cassie. She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration.

The Joker sighed rather dramatically before saying "Dollface, you of all people should know by now that I'm not the man with the plan. I just _do _things, y'know? I don't think about it before hand, and I certainly don't take in mind the consequences."

"But I just want to know why."

He stared at her, unblinking. She squirmed beneath his gaze. Lowering his voice as if he was afraid to be overheard, he said "I believe in a philosophy that if you _want_ something.. then you should just take it.."

This didn't help Cassie at all. Did that mean that he wanted _her_, or that he had simply wanted to _kiss_ her just to see what it would be like?

"...by force, if necessary."

She scoffed, realizing that by saying something like that, he was almost guaranteeing himself a cell in County.

"I don't think you understand," she began slowly, her patience wearing thin. "I have risked everything trying to treat you. My personal life is in shambles, my colleagues are questioning my abilities as a doctor, and on top of all that, I've got the DAs office breathing down my neck, pushing for a diagnosis that they can take to a judge and jury on a silver platter."

She was breathing heavily now, clicking her pen repeatedly.

"Well, obviously, they're not going to get what they want any time soon, hmm?"

Cassie averted her eyes, contemplating her next move. Dealing with this Clown Prince of Crime was like playing a game of chess with a very skilled opponent. You had to think one, two, possibly even three steps ahead to even fathom winning.

Finally, she looked up, a look of resolution on her delicate features.

"I thought of a question."

He looked up in surprise, twisting a strand of chartreuse hair around his finger. "Really?" he said, disbelieving.

Cassie nodded. She had thought long and hard, but in the end, she knew what she wanted to ask.

"Well, out with it then!"

She took a deep breath, bracing herself for a lie.

"Where did you go to high school?"

He blinked, his eyes wide, though there seemed to be no difference, thanks to the face paint. For once, it seemed as if the Joker was speechless.

"Pardon?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

Another deep breath. "You heard me."

He sat back, appraising her with wary eyes. He licked his lips multiple times.

"You know, for a minute there, I was expecting something completely different!"

She wasn't sure as to what he had been expecting, but she watched, annoyed, as he started to laugh manically.

"You really are something else, aren't you, Harley?" he gasped, his laughter dying down.

"Alright, I'll answer your question, like I promised, as truthfully as I can."

He leaned forward, folding his hands on the table, as if settling himself in for a long, tedious tale.

"I went to high school... in a small, dirty little town," he began, his voice guttural. "The kind of town where you couldn't even spank your kids without someone else finding out and gossiping about it in the beauty parlor."

He paused, and Cassie took that time to assess his words, his facial twitches.

He was lying. She could tell. He was speaking in a manner that suggested he was carefully choosing his next words; slow and thoughtful. Every so often, a corner of his mouth or his eye would twitch ever so slightly. But she let him continue, knowing he would deny it.

"I guess you could say... I had a rough time in high school. But who didn't?" he chuckled. "Well, except for maybe you, of course." He gestured to her, leaning back. "You're a fairly smart, fairly.. attractive woman."

His eyes swept over what he could see of her body, hungrily, but not in a perverted manner.

"I'm sure you had a blast in high school, right? You probably had _tons_ of friends, a _popular_ boyfriend. Good grades, a good home life. The teachers probably _loved_ you, and I'm sure you were voted Most Likely to Succeed by the student body, hmm?"

He was staring at her, his eyes squinted, and the paint around his mouth was dissolving from being licked one too many times.

She remained silent for a few moments, fuming, unsure of what to say. He continued to watch her. It was unnerving.

"Don't try to dissect me," she growled, doing her best to keep her composure.

"Ah, well, that reminds me of two dreams I had last night!" The Joker's voice was cheerful, almost comical compared to his current situation.

"The first one had you in it!" He eyed her warily. "Though, I suppose now's not the best time to mention that... The second one; I was thirteen again, and it was Thanksgiving at my childhood home. All of my family was there, sitting around this big table that was creaking under the pressure of so much food. And the turkey! Boy, that turkey was huge!"

Cassie listened intently, hoping that this was going somewhere.

"Anyway, my father had promised me that I could be the one to carve the turkey this year! I was so excited! So, he hands me this big, long, sharp carving knife and says "Get to it, son!" So, I do! I'm carving away at that massive turkey, happy that it was finally my turn, when all of a sudden, it's not a turkey anymore. It's my dad! He's screaming and yelling at me to stop, and all of my family is screaming and yelling in horror, but I just shrug my shoulders and keep on carving. I figure 'Why stop now?' So I just keep going at it, and before I know it-"

He was interrupted by the door creaking open. Lyle the security guard came into the room, followed closely by Dr. Arkham and a GCPD police officer.

"We need to take him outta here, now," said Lyle, holding a pair of handcuffs in one hand, and a straight jacket in the other.

"What? Why? I mean, what for?" Cassie stammered, folding her arms across her chest.

Dr. Arkham stepped in, looking grave and angry. "We've just discovered the body of Ronan Fields in the archives. Carved, like some kind of Thanksgiving turkey. We need to question him."

Cassie turned slowly to look at the Joker in panic.

"What, and you think _I_ did it?" he said, so dramatically annoyed. "I've been with her the whole time!"

"Enough," barked Dr. Arkham. He motioned to the officer, and the officer made his way cautiously over to the Joker. He yanked him out of the chair and slapped the handcuffs on his wrist with a satisfying _click_. The Joker struggled, but not much, and as he was being led out of the room, he turned to look at Cassie.

"I guess I sleep walk," he sneers, winking at her before the door shut heavily behind them.


	9. Obsession

Cassie's hands tangled themselves in Kevin's hair as he hooked one hand under her right knee, wrapping it around his waist. He pushed her up against the wall, his hips grinding against hers in an erratic rhythm. She moaned softly as his lips left a scorching trail of kisses down her neck to her collarbone. One hand fumbled to undo the buttons on his shirt, while the other remained on the back of his head, holding him, making sure he didn't stop.

A noise of pleasure erupted from Kevin's mouth as Cassie's fingers softly traced the contours of his abs, down the small crevice that separated his modest six pack to the lining of his jeans. He hoisted her up from both legs and carried her over to their bed, letting her fall on her back, sprawled across the burgundy sheets. He crawled on top of her, and she hastened to remove her blouse and pencil skirt, while he gracefully unbuttoned and disposed of all of his garments. Cassie moaned once more as Kevin's lips crashed into hers. Her skin already glistened with a thin sheen of sweat, and she lost herself in the smell of the cologne she had gotten him for his birthday.

Kevin kept a firm hand on her waist, while the other roamed her body, finally settling on her left breast. He massaged gently, but firmly, groaning in ecstasy when she lightly nibbled on his Adam's apple.

Cassie could feel it, the pressure building in her abdomen, intense, unyielding. She almost forgot everything; that her name was Cassandra _Harley_ Gabriel, psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum. That she's recently lost her most fascinating patient to outside complications. That she knew the Joker's true identity...

"Oh, Jack," she moaned loudly, as Kevin's fingers rubbed the moist mound beneath her panties.

Kevin stopped abruptly. Without a word, he stopped touching Cassie and climbed out of the bed, furious.

"Kevin?" Cassie almost didn't catch her mistake. "Kevin, wait... Oh, Kevin, I'm so sorry."

She sat up slowly, dejectedly wrapping the bed sheet around her sweaty body. She reached out to Kevin with one hand, but he ignored it, putting his clothes back on. His upper lip was curled in anger, and his usually soft green eyes were now distant and cold.

"Kevin, please wait!" Cassie pleaded, disentangling herself from the sheet. "Please, let me explain!"

He shook his head slowly, pulling on one shoe, and then the other. He grabbed his coat and slammed the bedroom door behind himself, leaving Cassie feeling lonely and ashamed.

Rain pitter-pattered on the large window of Cassie's office, leaving streaks only to be washed away by the next drop, and the next. Usually, Cassie especially enjoyed this kind of weather, but today, she hardly took notice.

It had been a week since the unspeakable incident involving her patient, the Joker, and the District Attorney Ronan Fields. Dr. Arkham had related the story to her as he knew it:

Mr. Fields had not reappeared from the archives for fourteen hours, and the ADA Emily Haines had called asking to speak to him. Dr. Arkham had gone looking for him, only to find Ronan Fields lying flat on a table, gruesomely carved and lifeless at around 8:00 in the morning.

Naturally, his first instinct was to suspect the Joker, hence the reason for the intrusion on his and Cassie's last session. She'd assured Dr. Arkham that she would be able to psychoanalyze the Joker next week, and hopefully he would give her some answers. Dr. Arkham had said that that wouldn't be necessary.

"And why is that?" Cassie inquired, tapping her foot impatiently.

"We are relieving you as his doctor," he'd told her, his hands shaking slightly. He hadn't had one cigarette that day, and he was feeling jittery.

"Wait, you're taking me off the case? I won't be having sessions with him anymore? He's my only patient!"

"We'll assign other patients to you, Dr. Gabriel. In the meantime, if you'll excuse me, there is a lot of paperwork to be done."

And with that, Cassie was assigned to preside over two new patients, a rapist husband and his murderous wife. But by that time, her definition of sane had been so warped that she'd discharged them both within the week, believing them both to be mentally stable and fit for release.

Cassie remained in her office for most of the morning, absentmindedly doodling on a scrap piece of paper. She'd taken a few art classes in college, mostly drawing and realism, as an occasional escape from her studies. When she'd finished sketching, she saw that is was a face, a man with curly hair, dark eyes, and handsome features.

"Jack?" she whispered, tracing the lines and shading with her fingertips. Before Cassie could register what was happening, she felt warm moisture dripping from her eyes, and she realized she was crying.

She took a tissue from her drawer and dabbed at her cheeks, but it was useless. The tears continued to flow, stubborn and relentless. Cassie was sobbing now, and she buried her face in her hands to muffle her wails.

She didn't understand. How could one man, a man she'd barely even known, have been so important to her? He was taking over her mind, twisting and tearing at the lobes in her brain until she couldn't take it anymore. And the worst part of it was, she was letting him. There was a connection between them now, a deep-rooted connection that she didn't have the heart to break.

Cassie was so lost in her depression that she hadn't heard the knock on her office door, nor had she heard the footsteps of Dr. Arkham as he had entered.

"Dr. Gabriel, are you alright?"

She gasped, quickly wiping her eyes with the tissue, smearing mascara across her cheeks.

"Dr. Arkham! I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in."

"That's alright," he murmured, appraising her as if she had finally lost it. "Commissioner Gordon's here. He'd like to ask you a few questions about your patient."

A fairly handsome, middle-aged man with glasses and a mustache made his way unsurely into Cassie's office. He looked uneasy, but gave her a kind smile. She returned it as best she could, using her hands to wipe her smudgy cheeks.

"Pleasure to meet you, Doctor," he said, his voice low and pleasing.

"Pleasure's all mine, Commissioner," Cassie replied, shaking his hand. "You'll have to excuse my unprofessional behavior, I wasn't expecting any visitors today. And please, call me Cassie."

"That's quite all right," he smiled again, and she liked the way it made her feel. Like a father would smile at his daughter. "Call me Jim."

She asked him to have a seat, and he did, while Dr. Arkham continued to stand.

"So, what can I do for you, Jim?" Cassie asked.

Once again, Gordon looked slightly uncomfortable before he said "I asked Dr. Arkham if I could see you so that I may ask you a few questions about... patient 4479."

Cassie nodded politely, resting her head on her folded hands.

"What is it you would like to know?"

Gordon sighed, and Dr. Arkham continued to look impatient and jumpy.

"Well, first of all... how has he been doing? Has he made _any_ progress at all? In your opinion, is he fit for trial?"

She sighed, running a hand through her long dark hair. It had grown three inches in the past few months.

"Well, Jim, as far as I'm concerned, as long as I continue to be his doctor, and as long as time is on my side, I may be able to get some results. But it's not me you should be speaking to right now. If memory serves me correctly, I am no longer the doctor responsible for the Joker."

Gordon looked confused. He glanced at Dr. Arkham, who was glaring at Cassie for spilling the beans.

"I-I don't understand. Dr. Arkham told me that you were the one who was over-seeing him. You've collected data, haven't you? Taken notes and recordings?"

Jim looked as if he was becoming angrier by the second. Cassie remained calm.

"I was discharged as Jack- the Joker's doctor a week ago. Dr. Arkham and my other colleagues thought it would be best if I was taken off of the case." She smirked slightly, noticing how Gordon was glaring at Dr. Arkham in disbelief. "I believe Dr. Hugo Strange is now in charge."

Gordon leapt out of his seat, his fists clenched.

"Strange? Dr. Arkham, you've put Hugo Strange on the case? His methods are unethical, questionable at best!"

Dr. Arkham backed up slowly, putting his hands up in defense. "Gordon, look, you don't understand. Cassie was making little progress, if any progress at all. Mr. Fields was willing to wait no more than six months for a proper diagnosis, and it's almost been five. We wanted to try other methods, see if possibly the hypnotherapy would produce faster results-"

"Doctor, I'm not looking for faster results," Gordon hissed, gathering his coat. "I am looking for clear and concise results that will help a jury decide on a fair verdict. I suggest you put Dr. Gabriel back on this case."

He turned to leave, but before he exited the office, he said "And in case you haven't noticed, Doctor.. Ronan Fields isn't the District Attorney anymore."


	10. Bad Day

Once again, The Joker Blogs . And I own nothing of it.

* * *

Cassie had come home that night to a surprisingly empty house. She assumed that Kevin must be out with some friends, until she saw the note on the kitchen table.

**Took my stuff and went to stay with Will. I think we both just need a little space for a while. Call me when you get your shit together. Don't mail the invitations.**

**Kevin**

Cassie's eyes scanned the words on the sticky note over and over again, panic creeping up her spine. She couldn't believe it. She didn't _want_ to believe it. How could Kevin just up and leave her like that? Didn't he love her?

Her legs gave out and she fell, unceremoniously crumpling onto the floor, too shocked to cry.

This was how she stayed until she fell asleep, awoken the next morning by a faulty fire detector.

_"Oh, I'm so sorry!"_

Cassie stood erect, angry and coffee drenched in the parking lot of a convenience store, glaring in an unforgiving manner at the woman who's daughter had bumped into her. The little girl hid behind her mother's leg, looking up at Cassie in fear and remorse. Her bottom lip trembled ever so slightly. Cassie shook her head slowly before saying as calmly as she could "No, no... it's-it's alright."

She proceeded to turn and walk away from mother and child, regretting the decision to wear white today of all days.

_-ding ding ding-_

Cassie glanced in confusion at the little light blinking on her dashboard. To her, it looked like a tiny engine, and it was flashing red.

"Hmm.."

She continued on her way to work, ignoring the soft noise and blinking light. All seemed to be fine, until a thin smoke began to cloud her vision. It took Cassie a moment to figure out that it was coming from under the hood.

"Oh, shoot!"

She carefully pulled the Volkswagen over to the side of the road and killed the engine. The smoke was leaking faster now. She was unsure of what to do, seeing as this had never happened to her before.

Cassie treaded delicately on the dirt in her stilettos, her black pencil skirt limiting her mobility. With a grunt of effort, she heaved the hood open.

Immediately, her eyes began to water and she coughed profusely thanks to all the smoke. She gasped for air, backing up and tripping, landing on her behind.

"Fuck, ow!" Getting up was the hard part. Once she'd managed this awkward task, her hands, knees, and elbows were scraped and dirty, and there were several small rips in her skirt.

"Ugh!" Cassie groped in her purse for her cell phone, planning to call her insurance company and demand a rental. There was an annoying sound coming from the phone, and it took her a moment to realize that there was no service.

"Dammit!" She threw the phone back into the car, where it landed with a _thunk _on the passenger seat, and slammed the door shut, wiping her bangs from her sweaty forehead. There was a small _click_, and Cassie's eyes widened in horror. She whipped around and pulled the door handle multiple times, but it was no use. She'd locked herself out.

She groaned in frustration and leaned against the car, sliding all the way down to the ground. She was about to lose all hope, before she spotted the hazy outline of a car coming over the hill toward her. She stood and waved her arms in the air, yelling.

"Hey! Hey, over here! Stop!"

To Cassie's relief, she realized it was a police car, and she smiled gratefully when it stopped.

"Is everything all right, miss?" The police officer stopped his car and got out, removing his aviators and surveying the scene. She could only imagine what he saw; a car that was spewing smoke, and a harried, filthy woman who looked as if he was her savior.

"No!" she yelped, out of breath. "My car just broke down, and my cell has no service!"

The cop ran a hand through his platinum blonde curls and said "Is there somewhere I can take you?" She nodded yes, and he opened the back door to let her in.

"Alright, where to, ma'am?"

"Arkham Asylum, please. If you just keep going straight, you'll reach a fork. Take the left side, and you can't miss it."

The officer turned slowly in his seat to stare at her in disbelief. She thought he must be new, a rookie, because it seemed as if the thought of going anywhere near the Asylum caused him a bit of grief.

"You work at Arkham?"

She nodded again, growing impatient with his unnecessary questions. "And I'm going to be late if you don't hurry. Please."

"Miss me?"

Cassie rolled her eyes and avoided his gaze, looking everywhere except directly at his face. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

Dr. Arkham had placed them in the cafeteria for this session, no doubt hoping to appease both Cassie and Commissioner Gordon. He'd been muttering to himself all morning, things like "No right..," and "Can't just come barging into _my _institution.." Cassie wasn't particularly thrilled about it, but she decided not to voice her opinion, for fear of being taken off the case again.

"Well, let's just pretend that you did, for my sake, hmm?"

They sat at a long table by themselves across from each other, surrounded by the less violent patients, a few of which were staring in disbelief, almost awe. The Joker sat with a Styrofoam food tray in front of him, which contained a soggy looking sandwich, a ripe apple, a chocolate pudding cup, and a no doubt sour carton of milk. He ripped a bite of sandwich with his teeth and chewed obnoxiously, keeping his eyes on her face.

This was the last place she wanted to be at the moment. Her morning had been terrible so far, and the only act which seemed pleasing to Cassie was sipping a mug of perfectly warm hot chocolate and curling up with a good book. But alas, duty called.

A look of confusion and all-around edginess appeared on his face. She knew Joker wasn't used to this uncharacteristic silence, and she probably looked less than cheerful at the moment.

"Well?" he started, waving around the now half-eaten sandwich.

"Well, what?" she snapped.

"Aren't you gonna say it?"

"Say what?"

He flashed her a smirk, clearing his throat and sitting up straight, taking on a mock-professional tone.

"Dr. Gabriel over-seeing patient 4479.. blah blah blah."

Despite herself, the corner's of Cassie's mouth turned up slightly in amusement. But just as quickly, she was back to sulking.

"I hardly think that there's any point in following protocol. I mean, can't you see where we are?"

She gestured to their surroundings. The cafeteria itself was also constructed of white brick, and directly across from their table, there was a set of double doors, closely guarded by Lyle, who kept a wary eye on them at all times now.

"Taking you out of high security and placing you in the cafeteria with.. the non-violent crowd. Re-instating me as your doctor. Can't you see what they're trying to do?"

Joker's eyes squinted, and he leaned forward, interested.

"You are one of the rare prisoners of interest. They believe that if they can get on your good side, then you'll be more willing to cooperate."

He snickered, peeling the lid off of his pudding cup.

"That's ridiculous. I don't have a good side!"

She shuffled a few papers around and lost herself in the random chatter of the various groups of patients before she regained herself. "Yes, well.. you'll have to forgive me if I'm feeling a little less than willing myself today."

"Aww, whassa matter, Doc? Having a.. _bad_ day?" He chuckled, no doubt enjoying his own private joke.

Her left hand rested on the table, and she gasped in surprise when he took it, squeezing gently. This tiny, fleeting act of compassion was all it took to send her over the edge.

"Take me," she whispered, vaguely aware of the burning in her throat.

"Hmm?" He'd let go. The act had been short-lived, but it still lingered in her sudden memory.

"Take me... take me away from this place."

His grin was so wide that she could see all of his yellowing teeth. Her eyes widened, fully comprehending how he must have taken her words.

"Oh, don't worry, Harley. Your time will come soon enough."


	11. Submission

Cassie was jolted from a deep slumber by a tingling sensation traveling down her spine.

She blinked her crystal eyes rapidly, adjusting to the dim light. She found she had been resting her head on the desk. _I must've fallen asleep_, she thought, raising her arms in a dainty stretch. She found that she could sense a chill on her calves, arms and chest. She looked down and saw that she was wearing a black and white Lolita-style dress with matching heels.

"What..?" This confused her greatly, but for some reason, she just shrugged it off. She could see outside the window that it was the middle of the night, maybe around one in the morning. The stars were twinkling brightly, and a full moon shone down on a quiet Gotham.

Suddenly, there was a small tapping noise on Cassie's office door, and she crossed the room to investigate.

She opened the door, but the threshold was empty. _Strange..._ The hallway itself was dimly lit and barren. No surprise. Everyone except a few security guards had probably gone home a while ago. There was a noise, like heavy footsteps coming from down the hallway. Cassie found no harm in quenching her curiosity, so she followed the noise down the left side of the hallway, her own heels clicking sharply on the linoleum floor.

The footsteps continued, leading her down two flights of stairs to the second floor. Above her, the fluorescent lights blinked and faltered creepily, but she ventured on. Eventually, the noises led her to her interrogation room: room 103. Her brows pulled together in confusion, but she could sense movement behind the steel door. Cassie placed a shaky hand on the doorknob, and almost immediately, a wave of feeling overtook her entire body. She wasn't entirely sure, but it felt like a combination of fear, indifference, and an intense desire. The room was brightly lit and appeared empty at first, but as soon as her eyes adjusted, Cassie saw that she wasn't alone.

Joker had appeared, standing and facing a wall. He was wearing his purple suit, complete with velvet overcoat and dirty brown dress shoes. His unruly green curls shone in the light, and she saw that he was looking into a mirror, applying the last of the white face paint that completed his disguise. He smirked ironically when he spotted her, turning and opening his arms wide in a grand, inviting gesture. She approached him cautiously. Could she trust him? She felt scared, but he continued to smile down at her. Before she could decide on anything, in one swift motion, she was in his arms, and he was holding her tightly to his body.

She gasped, but didn't resist, burying her face in his broad chest. Her fear had dissolved, and she felt safe here, almost happy. His arms were slightly sculpted and felt strong around her. He smelled of a combination of wet dirt and aftershave, but she didn't care, inhaling deeply as he rested his cheek on the top of her head.

All of a sudden, Cassie found herself laying flat on top of the cold metal table. Joker had gone back to smirking, and there was a maniacal gleam in his dark eyes. He was tying her limbs down with pieces of ripped fabric, first her wrists, and then her ankles. She didn't put up a fight, knowing he could easily overpower her if she tried.

He was humming absentmindedly as he pulled every knot, his violet leather gloves grazing her porcelain skin. Joker stood back to admire his handiwork. He smiled and reached into his pocket, pulling out a switchblade. He clicked it open and approached her once more, chuckling deeply.

The Joker placed the blade on her neck, flat, so it wouldn't cut her. She flinched, but only because it was cold. He laughed at this, and began tracing the blade across her collarbone, down her right arm, across her stomach still covered by the fabric of the dress, and down her leg. Cassie shivered with anticipation.

Joker leaned down so that his face was mere inches from her own. With warm breath on her lips, Cassie stretched her neck and gently touched her lips to his. He looked shocked at first, but returned the kiss almost immediately. Then as soon as it began, it was over, leaving Cassie sulky and unsatisfied. He smirked knowingly, raising the small knife to her lips, where he made a small nick in the center of her lips.

She gasped sharply as she felt the tiny jolt of pain. She licked her lips and tasted the blood, metallic and bitter. Another pain, short-lasted and stinging. She looked down and saw that Joker had cut her again, this time just above her left breast. He leaned over and kissed the minute injury, allowing his moist lips to linger for a moment or two. He continued his sadistic pattern, first making the small cut, and then kissing away the tiny drops of blood. After a few minutes of this, Cassie was aware of her squirming, and the tingling sensation that had made its way up and between her legs. She was enjoying this; this demented act of sadism and masochism in real form, forever combined in a twisted, continuous cycle. Each cut left her gasping, and each touch of his lips left her moaning for more.

The dress was scrunched around her bosom now as the Joker worked his way up her thighs, hips, and to her stomach. He circled her belly button with the tip of his blade, creating a thin, red circle around it. Just when she was about to assume he was finished, he stood staring at her belly, as if contemplating the perfect spot to next inflict an injury.

He touched the blade to a spot just beneath her ribs, which poked out, slightly gaunt-like. She twitched a bit, but was anticipating the pain now, looking forward to it. Then, with a look of complete concentration, the Joker began to lightly carve a design into her skin.

This hurt more than the previous nicks, but she was able to tolerate it, gasping and moaning more out of pleasure than pain.

Finally, when he was finished, he bent over to untie her binds. She sat up, disoriented and confused. She felt the spot just below her ribs, and pushed her breasts flatter against her chest so she could see it better.

It was a tiny heart, red, inflamed, and irritated, surrounded by a circle of even tinier diamonds. The wound was bleeding slightly, and she was surprised when she felt the Joker's bare hand graze over it. He pulled his hand back, his fingers flecked with tiny droplets of blood. She watched in fascination as he brought them to his lips and licked, tasting her blood. He was smiling again, but it was different this time. It was less like the Joker, and more like the Jack she'd known and possibly even loved. He closed the short distance between them and kissed her again, slow and sensual. She happily submitted, holding his face with her hands. He bit her bottom lip hard, and she tasted blood again, but allowed him entrance. Their tongues found each other, and a low, guttural growl escaped from his throat. He pushed her down on the table again and crawled on top of her. His weight was crushing, but the feel of his body on top of hers only sent her into a frenzied lust. She pulled his head down and kissed him again, forceful and needy.

Joker ran a gloved hand up and down her arm and waist. They continued to kiss passionately, becoming more and more heated by the second. They had maneuvered so that Cassie was now straddling him. He'd shrugged out of his purple and orange overcoat and tossed it aside. She struggled to undo the buttons on his shiny green vest, and after that, his periwinkle dress shirt with the octagonal pattern. He'd discarded his gloves, and she felt tiny tremors rock her body as he ran his fingernails up and down her bare back.

She ripped open his shirt, revealing a taught stomach and well-built chest. Cassie focused her attention on his neck this time, lightly kissing and nibbling the tanned skin. Joker moaned softly, revealing that he was enjoying this just as much as she was.

Cassie continued to kiss him, moving from his neck to his collarbone, down the muscles of his chest and stomach to his hips, where the bones were very pronounced. She smirked slightly as she ran a hand over the quivering bulge in his pinstriped trousers. He was shaking, she could feel it. But just when she was about to unbutton his pants, Joker snatched her wrist and gripped it tightly. She nearly collapsed as a searing pain shot up her arm. He'd snapped her wrist.

The room was dark now, save for a single flickering light bulb hanging from the ceiling. Cassie searched for his face, and she nearly screamed in terror as she realized that she was no longer in the Joker's presence.

Fear, cold and thick crept up her throat and spread throughout her entire body. This man she did not recognize loomed above her, his face hidden in shadow, and a dirty trench coat hanging off of his bulky frame.

Cassie held her wrist in her good hand, whimpering in pain. The man growled and slapped her across the face. She tasted blood again as she clutched her stinging cheek.

In a matter of seconds, she was on her back again, her binds back in place. But this time, she tried to resist, screaming in agony when she was forced to remember her broken wrist. The man climbed on top of her, unbuttoning his pants and breathing heavily. Cassie managed to free her right foot, and she kicked the man in the stomach as hard as she could.

The stranger doubled over, groaning in protest. Still bent over, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a knife. But it was not like the travel-sized pocket knives the Joker used. No, this was a steak knife, the kind you kept high on the kitchen counter. It gleamed menacingly, and the breath was knocked out of Cassie's lungs as the man buried the six inch blade in her stomach. Writhing in intense pain, Cassie nearly fainted when he wrenched it out, covered in her warm scarlet blood. He tossed the knife aside, chuckling darkly as it made a sharp _clang_ on the concrete. He began the process of removing his pants once more as Cassie cried silently to herself. A pungent smell reached her nostrils, like rubbing alcohol and ammonium mixed with other chemicals. Fearing they might be toxic, she tried to breathe as little as possible, which wasn't hard, seeing as it felt as if her lungs had collapsed.

This time, the man simply threw himself onto her, and she hissed in pain, her chest rapidly moving up and down with her ragged breathing. Suddenly, without warning, this evil man had penetrated her, his movements heavy and forceful. For the first time in her entire life, Cassie wished she would die on the spot. It felt as if he was ripping her apart from the inside, shredding away at her flesh and marrow.

Cassie fell limp, hoping her lack of reaction would make him stop sooner. She'd grown weak from loss of blood, and her vision blurred around the edges. The only sounds she heard were his concentrated grunts and the flicker of the light bulb above. She felt she would vomit if there had been any fluids left in her punctured stomach. She could taste the bile, so she swallowed it down. It burned her throat.

She was slowly losing consciousness. She thought of Alex.. why wasn't he helping her? Where could he possibly be in her desperate time of need? She thought of Katherine, her mother, with her warm chocolate eyes and charming smile. She remembered her mother working in the small garden in their backyard, saying once that if you can't eat it, don't grow it.

But mostly, she thought of Jack White and the Joker. To her, they were one in the same. She imagined his hands in hers, gloved or ungloved, it didn't matter. She pictured them as a couple; going out to eat, stargazing in the park, curling up on a bed in each other's arms. Would they have gotten married? Yes, she thought, and it would have been a beautiful summer wedding, with all of their family and friends. They would honeymoon somewhere urban and exciting, like Paris or London or Rome. They would move away from Gotham, with it's gloomy skies, overwhelming skyscrapers and rising crime rate. Certainly it was no place to start a family and raise a child. A child they were sure to have...

Cassie lost herself in her fantasies, allowing her mind and body to go completely numb. She didn't care if her heart decided to stop beating on this moment. She was content with her imagination. She was content aching for what might have been...

A loud banging noise shook the entire foundation of the room.

Cassie was awoken in a cold sweat by the sounds of screams and gunshots.


	12. Snapped

J_ack White couldn't remember the exact time when he'd decided to go insane. It seemed inevitable at this point, so rather than fight it, he embraced it with open arms. It was so much easier than facing reality._

_His reality. The reality that had been perfect just a few short hours ago. It seemed as if his wheel had finally spun backward, and now he lay in the trenches, angry and damaged. He'd left Emily and Dr. Zimmer at the hotel, she sobbing uncontrollably, he looking defiant and unashamed. He'd returned to his car, only to find a parking ticket stuck to the windshield. With a frustrated growl, he ripped it up and let the breeze blow the pieces away. He got in the car and drove recklessly home, nearly hitting a few pedestrians and fellow vehicles along the way._

_Upon reaching his shabby apartment, all Jack wanted to do was lay down and sleep forever. But as he walked in the door, the first thing he saw was a framed photo of himself and Emily together, their arms around each other. She was making a goofy face at the camera, and Jack was looking down on her, smiling. Reminded of his rage, he picked up the picture and threw it up against the wall, where the glass shattered and the frame snapped. The act was so cruelly satisfying that Jack took the little ceramic bowl that Emily had made him at one of her pottery classes and chucked that at the wall as well. The impact was so hard that not only did the bowl explode into a million tiny clay pieces, but it made a small dent in the wall. Jack threw whatever he could get his hands on, whether it was breakable or not. After ten minutes of this destructive release, there was a loud knock on the front door, followed by the voice of Mr. Peterson, the landlord, telling Jack to open up._

_"Jack! What's goin' on in there?" he asked as soon as Jack opened the door. Mr. Peterson was a short stump of a man, with a plump figure and a receding hairline. He was on the very tips of his toes trying to peer over Jack's 6'3" shoulder, but at 5'8", he failed miserably._

_"Nothing, Mr. Peterson," Jack said quickly, doing his best to fill in the doorframe so as to hide the broken mess all over the apartment. "Just doing a bit of moving around, that's all."_

_Mr. Peterson didn't look quite satisfied, but he accepted that answer with a curt nod. He cleared his throat nervously before saying "Well, Jack, the main reason I came up here was to talk to you about something.."_

_"What is it, Mr. P.?"_

_Peterson shuffled around, not making eye contact. After a few moments, he looked up at Jack and said "You haven't paid your rent since August, Jack. You owe about $1,200, and if you don't pay this month's rent, that price will go up to $1,800."_

_Jack shook his head in embarrassment and said "I'm really sorry about that, Mr. P. I've just been having a rough time. I'll get you the money, I promise."_

_Mr. Peterson sighed in exasperation. He looked as if he was trying to say something he really didn't want to say. "The thing is, Jack.. It's not gonna be that easy. Unless you can get me the money by Friday, I'm gonna have to evict you."_

_Jack's entire face fell. He tried to say something, but all that came out of his mouth were strangled chokes. Mr. Peterson was going to kick him out? But he had no where else to go!_

_Mr. Peterson looked somber as he placed a steady hand on Jack's shoulder. This was the last thing he wanted to do, was give someone bad news after receiving his own. But it wasn't his decision to make. "Jack, if it were up to me, you know you'd be able to stay. But you know it's management that pulls all the strings 'round here."_

_Jack nodded, and Mr. P. left him standing on the threshold with one last apology._

_He couldn't stay here. As soon as the stout landlord had left, Jack had grabbed his coat and disappeared, not bothering to lock the door behind him._

_The Narrows were a part of Gotham that most sane people tended to avoid. It was crawling with junkies and their dealers, hookers and their crooked politicians, and the occasional unlucky family who couldn't afford to get out of the steaming cess pool of drugs, disease, and poverty. A part of the Narrows had been closed off and abandoned after the fear-toxin had taken over, but plenty of it still remained. Enough for Mayor Wilmington to be concerned, anyway._

_This is where Jack White found himself tonight, his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his coat as he strolled down sidewalk after sidewalk._

_Strip bars, brothels, and decrepit apartment buildings surrounded him on all sides, but he ignored their flashing neon lights, his eyes blind to everything except the dull concrete beneath his feet. The people he passed paid no attention to him; he guessed they were too caught up in their criminalistic hobbies to pay much attention to anything._

_As far as he knew, the sun had set hours ago, and clouds had polluted the night sky. The musty smell of pre-rainfall settled over the streets as Jack continued to walk, his destination unknown._

_After quite some time, his movement was forced to cease by a flashing red hand at a crosswalk. While waiting for the chance to continue his mindless stroll, Jack was aware of a cloud of cigarette smoke encircling his head, followed closely by a deep, alluring voice._

_"Hello, handsome."_

_Jack turned, aware that the voice was addressing him. He came face to face with a woman who couldn't have been any older than he was. She had flaming red hair, real or fake, he couldn't tell. It framed her round face like a mane, a face that looked as if it had seen so much it wasn't supposed to see. Her eyes were gray and drooping, enshrouded with a combination of liquid eyeliner and a thick eye shadow in a baby sky blue. She had some cheap drug store lipstick spread across her mouth, the corners of which were pulled down in a jaded pout, the cigarette hanging limply between her lips. She wore a black sequined halter top beneath a maroon biker jacket, coupled with a red vinyl mini skirt and knee-high black pleather heeled boots. Her fingers glittered with multiple rings, and her faux manicure looked to be about an inch long. A purse that matched her jacket dangled from her right arm._

_"You look like you could use a little company tonight, sweet pea," she said in her syrupy voice, tracing his jaw line with one of her purple fake nails. She held out her hand for him to shake. "Name's Ginger. So, whaddya say?"_

_Jack appraised her for a moment, his expression remaining completely emotionless. He saw no reason for turning her down. After all, she was just trying to make a living._

_"Sure, why not?" he shrugged, and she smiled sweetly and hooked her arm through his, leading him away from the crosswalk just as the incoming traffic was coming to a stop._

_Ginger led him to a cheap motel/bar just down the street. The front doors were propped wide open, and the sounds of bass pumping music and cat calls could be heard from the doorway. Ginger tried steering him quickly past the front desk, where a greasy weasel of a man sat looking at a porno magazine. Jack realized she was trying to sneak by unnoticed, but her plan did not succeed._

_"Gingah Snap! How ya doin', babycakes?"_

_Ginger grimaced, before slowly turning to face the man. "Hey, Rico."_

_"Think you can sneak by me widout sayin' hello?"_

_Ginger looked nervous as she tried to pull Jack away from the lobby, but Rico spoke up again._

_"This is the third one tonight! Want me to just put him on ya tab?"_

_Ginger had taken Jack down a few select hallways till she found a room still on the first floor of the motel. She opened the door without a key, and he followed her inside, looking around in curiosity. There was one rickety-looking queen sized bed, puke green shag carpeting, a TV set that looked like it was from the '70s, and a door that no doubt led to a small bathroom. She tossed her purse onto a desk, removed her jacket and plopped down on the edge of the bed, inviting him to sit down as well by patting the space next to her. The sheets were covered in multiple fading stains, and it was hard to decipher the original color._

_"You look nervous, Dollface," she cooed as he sat, his hands clasped tightly together. "I'm guessing you never done anything like this before?"_

_He shook his head, remaining stoic. She clicked her tongue softly and began to lightly massage his shoulders._

_"It's alright, puddin'. All you gotta do is relax, and whatever else you feel like doin'."_

_She winked, but he paid her no attention. When she'd called him puddin', it had reminded him of Gina, his mother, and what had become of her once his brother Melvin had left and could no longer defend her against their abusive father. This thought sparked an all new feeling of rage in his broken mind. He allowed her to continue to rub the space between his shoulder blades. Her fingers were like magic, but he could barely concentrate on them. It was as if his thoughts were on a sugar rush, flitting from one memory to the other._

_No matter how hard he tried, the image of his once beloved Emily in that towel, glistening with sweat and her hair all askew could not be shaken away. Every time he closed his eyes, that's what he saw. It was driving him crazy._

_"The trick is to loosen up," Ginger was saying in his ear. One hand had moved from his back to his arm, stroking down his chest until she reached the very top of his jeans. With skilled movements, she unbuckled his belt, undid the button and zipper, and slowly began to move her head downward. Jack took notice of this, and pushed her away. She looked a tad surprised, but nevertheless, she advanced on him again. This time, he ignored her by getting up from the bed and moving to the wall closest to the door._

_"Aww, come on, Dollface," she simpered, getting up herself and sauntering over to him. "Whassa matter? Hmm? Come on, you can tell Ginger."_

_She wrapped an arm around his waist, but not before he noticed the track marks near the crook of her elbow. She ran her fingers through his hair, and he could smell the cigarettes and vodka on her breath. He turned away, but she was relentless._

_"Tell me, now... Why so serious?"_

_Something snapped. Deep in the recesses of his mind, a spark had flown, and now the fire was growing out of control. Jack's hand flew upward and wrapped itself tightly around Ginger's thin neck. She gasped and choked, clawing at his hand as he lifted and threw her against the opposite wall. She crumpled to the floor and lay there in a black and red heap, but she was still conscious. She was sucking in breaths as if they were the most delicious drink, and stared at him in horror._

_"Wha- What do you think you're doing?"_

_He came at her again, his body no longer submissive to his mind, but rather, quite the opposite. He was no longer Jack White. No, this man... this man was something more than Jack. Something hideous... something vengeful..._

_Something powerfully insane._

_This something hoisted Ginger up by the armpits and slammed her against the corner of the wall. Her head bobbed pathetically, and she groaned loudly in pain. She tried to kick Him, but He avoided her feet with only a few swift movements. He began to hit her, His fist making contact with any body part it could reach. She was bloodied and bruised now, her lip gushing blood, two black eyes forming, and from the crunch that had resounded, a broken nose. He kneed her in the gut, and she toppled over, no longer able to take His torment. She began to crawl slowly and stiffly towards the desk, gasping in pain with every movement she made. She was no doubt trying to reach her purse, which most likely held either a cell phone or a can of pepper spray. He stood there for a moment, breathing heavily as He watched her drag herself across the floor, before disappearing into the bathroom._

_As she continued to stumble toward her purse, Ginger could faintly hear the rattles that came from the bathroom, as if He was searching for something. She was so close now, maybe just a few more feet, then she'd be able to call for help..._

_But she wouldn't make it in time. He reemerged from the bathroom, His figure casting a shadow on the wall she was facing. She began to cry uncontrollably, heaving with convulsions as He made His way closer to her. He appeared to be holding something small in His right hand, and He was coming at her with it._

_"Oh, God, no, please.." she wailed, assuming He was going to attack her with whatever it was. She could no longer move; her insides felt non-existent, her face was swollen and hurting, and a sharp pain in her chest led her to believe that He'd broken a rib or two._

_He circled her a few times, noticing that the hair at the back of her head was matted and shiny with blood. A malicious grin spread slowly across His face as He watched her shaking on the floor, begging God to help her, begging Him to spare her. He liked this, this feeling of power and control. Like a man with clean veins shooting heroin for the very first time. He wanted more; more of the adrenaline coursing through his bloodstream. More of her groveling. He wanted to inflict more pain... _

_He knelt down in front of her, cocking His head to the side as He continued to grin. She stared up at Him in complete and utter terror, trembling with each sob. She saw that it was a razor He held in His hand, silver and gleaming. For a split second, she caught her grizzly reflection in the shiny surface, but she was forced to look Him in the eyes as He held her chin and roughly jerked her head upward. Hate, pure and unadulterated is what she saw there, the once lively brown eyes now cold and dark as black holes. They were never ending, sucking her in as He began to chuckle._

_His grin disappeared for a brief second as He stared back down at her. But just as soon as it was gone, it was back again, and this time, He spoke:_

_"Why so serious?"_

_His voice had changed. It was no longer warm and inviting; it had become rough and slightly high pitched, dripping with sarcasm and full of loathing._

_The voice of a mad man._

_Before Ginger even had the option of shutting her eyes or turning away, she was forced to watch in panic as He brought the razor not to her face, but to His own. She sat petrified as He slowly stuck the razor inside His mouth, and what followed was a sound like no other. The sound of tearing flesh._

_A spray of warm blood landed across her face as He began to carve the insides of His cheeks, ripping through the flesh entirely. It was a gruesome sight, and she only cried harder as He began to laugh maniacally. He'd split both of His cheeks totally, beginning at His cheek bone and ending at the corner of His mouth. The most difficult task was determining where the blood flow began and ended._

_And all the while, he continued to laugh, laughs that were shrill and piercing and terrifying beyond belief._

_She thought He was going to kill her, but instead, His face fell and lost all consciousness, and He collapsed where He stood, unmoving and as far as she could tell, not breathing._

_Right then and there, Stacey 'Ginger' Peterson swore to God that she would give up her provocative ways and go back home to her father, who'd reported her missing six months ago._

_It didn't take long for the cops and a couple ambulances to show. Their flashing red and blue lights illuminated the entire room, like a very morbid disco. The John Doe, as they were calling him, had been taken away to Gotham General, and the paramedics were doubting he was even going to make it that far. The Peterson girl was going to St. Paul's near the Palisades._

_Detective James Corrigan entered the room deliberately, not knowing what it was he was going to find. The John Doe had had an astonishing amount of blood all over him, and so did the woman. Is that what he was expecting to see? A lot of blood? This was his first major case, and he was definitely nervous. But he was also determined to get it right. _

_He'd been called the Rookie for too long._

_He took one look at the gory hotel room, like something out of a horror flick, eyes wide and mouth ajar, before calling to his partner._

_"Hey Ted! You're gonna wanna see this!"_


	13. Escape

So how are you guys liking the story so far? I realize it can get a little confusing, so if you ever have any questions, just leave me a message!

* * *

Dr. Cassie Gabriel, asleep with her head resting on her desk, was jolted awake by the sounds of screams and gunshots. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear the sleep from her eyes. The office was dimly lit by the parking lot lamps shining in from her window. She yawned, stretched, got up and crossed to the window, looking down to try and see what had caused such an abrupt awakening.

She spotted nothing at first, save for the few cars dotted here and there and the sparkling Gotham skyline. But when she squinted her eyes in order to focus better, she could see the outline of two figures making their way across the parking lot, one carrying what looked like a white knapsack, the other a gun in each hand. Fearing a breakout, Cassie removed her white coat and hurried out of the office, down the stairs, and out the two front doors, grateful that she'd decided to wear flats this morning.

The concrete was damp thanks to that afternoon's rainfall, and it took her a moment to find the two figures again. She stood silent and still for a moment, her chest heaving with her short breaths. Her mind had gone completely blank. But then, there they were, heading to a large white van parked directly beneath one of the yellow lights that illuminated the entire lot. One was no doubt a patient; the orange jumpsuit was unmistakable, even in the semi-darkness. The other was your average bystander, wearing dark skinny jeans and a black dress shirt. Cassie looked around frantically, but there were no security guards in sight. Then she realized that no alarms had gone off either, which was just as strange. The night was dead silent; no animal sounds, no traffic. She knew it probably wasn't the smartest thing to do, but she wasn't thinking straight. She decided to try and catch them herself.

"Hey!" she called, sprinting towards the van. "Hey, you!" You two, stop!"

The figure with the two guns turned slowly and fired one. The sound was almost deafening and fast, that Cassie barely had time to react. It was an automatic handgun, and one of the bullets grazed her right shoulder. She stumbled forward in pain, gasping as she clutched her shoulder to try and halt the bleeding. The patient turned to see who his accomplice had nearly killed, and Cassie's eyes widened when she saw that it was the Joker. His face looked gaunt and frighteningly bizarre half hidden n shadow. He turned to his partner and told him to stop shooting at her, then began his slightly limped walk back in her direction. Even in the dark, she could see that he was smiling broadly.

"Well well well, what do we have _here_?" he smirked, reaching out to her. "Could _this_ be Dr. Gabriel herself?"

Cassie tried to act unafraid and stand up straight, but she could focus on nothing but the fiery pain in her shoulder. Joker finally reached her, and when he did, he poked the spot where the other man had shot her. She yelped and nearly fell to her knees. She'd never felt pain like this before, and she could hardly bear it.

"_What do you think you're doing?_" she spat, afraid of what it was he planned to do to her. "_How did you escape?_"

Joker chuckled softly before saying "All in good time, my _precious_ Harley."

With that, he grabbed her upper arm and began to drag her forcefully toward the vane. She whimpered in agony and started to struggle, but his grip was too strong for her to get away.

"Oh, sh sh sh sh sh," he cooed, knowing full well that she could _not_ calm down. When they reached the van, the other man opened a side door so they could climb in. Joker tossed the knapsack inside and turned to face Cassie.

"You know," he started, smacking his lips. "I thought I was gonna have to come back and get you myself. But it seems as if you've already done that for me!"

He began to laugh his crazy annoying laugh, but stopped abruptly when Cassie mustered up all her strength and stomped on his foot.

She knew she'd angered him, but at this point, she didn't care. Her only goal was to get him back to the asylum, and fast. He was her only patient, and she wanted to crack him so badly.. Her naivety became her downfall, however, when Joker growled "Punch!" and Cassie felt a painful thud on the back of her skull, no doubt from one of the guns. She fell forward on her knees, blacking out before she even hit the ground.

* * *

_Cassie sat filling out some paperwork behind the reception desk in the ICU when the paramedics came bursting though the double doors, huddled around an occupied gurney. She glanced up in interest when Dr. Williams rushed to their side, asking what the situation was. Cassie couldn't help overhearing._

_"The patient has multiple lacerations on both sides of the face," one of the medics was explaining to her. "We lost a pulse three times. Almost pronounced him dead on the way here, but somehow, he's still making it through."_

_Williams nodded vigorously, directing them to the emergency room. Before she followed them, she gestured to Cassie and said "I may need your help, Gabriel."_

_Her curiosity having been sparked, Cassie hurriedly followed her supervisor down the hall to the emergency room, where the patient had apparently flat lined once more, for one of the remaining EMTs was performing CPR._

_"Get him back to us, now!" Dr. Williams bellowed as she washed her hands and prepared for surgery. "I haven't lost a patient yet, and I am not about to start!"_

_Cassie peered over the heads of the doctors and assistants who had flocked the room to see if they could help. She saw that the patient was half naked, his pants the only article of clothing that remained. Both halves of his face were obscured by two pieces of gauze, which, along with the upper half of his body, were soaked with blood. The EMT had managed to get his heart going again, and the monitor beeped rather unsteadily next to the gurney._

_Dr. Williams had finished preparing and was now tending to the patient. She removed both gauze squares and noted that the injuries seemed self-inflicted. She began to gently but quickly and efficiently clean the wounds while Cassie gathered the necessary tools for her._

_"He's lost too much blood," Dr. Mosley observed. "We need to perform a blood transfusion immediately."_

_"Not until I've finished!" snapped Bethany Williams. She was stitching the patient's cheeks back together with both precision and speed. Cassie gasped when she saw how gruesome he looked, literally as if someone had tried to saw off the bottom half of his face._

_"Gabriel, assist Dr. Mosley with the blood transfusion."_

_Cassie obliged, and by the time they were all finished, the patient's heartbeat and breathing were both steady, even though his face still looked like something out of a horror movie._

_Dr. Williams sighed and removed her gloves and surgical mask. "Good job, everyone. Gabriel, please clean up the patient and have him moved to a private room in the ICU."_

_And with that, both doctors left, leaving Cassie behind to take care of who she thought was a stranger._


	14. News

"Good Wednesday morning, and welcome to Gotham Today on GCN. I'm Jake Hollington, joined, as always, by my lovely co-anchor Julia Richards."

"Good morning, Jake, and good morning to you citizens of Gotham. It is now 7:02 am and we'd like to begin this morning with a Breaking News report. We've received word that there's been a breakout at the infamous Arkham Asylum. It happened in the early hours of the morning today, and has promptly caused the hospital and surrounding regions to participate in a lockdown. Half of GCPD has been deployed to the area and are busy keeping the peace and order, while gathering eyewitness accounts of the incident. Police have been interviewing Doctors Jeremiah Arkham, Hugo Strange and Thomas Elliot since sun-up, and have now confirmed that the prisoner who has escaped is Patient 4479, otherwise known as the Joker. Police have also recently confirmed that Dr. Cassandra Gabriel has been missing since around the time of the escape, and it is suspected that she has been kidnapped by Patient 4479. The prisoner is to be considered armed and very dangerous. Now, Commissioner Gordon has issued a statement urging citizens not to panic, but to place their faith in GCPD and go about your days as you normally would unless instructed differently by himself or Mayor Garcia. If you have any information pertaining to the escaped prisoner or his hostage, please call the Gotham Emergency Dispatch Center, or 88 Crime."

"Heavy stuff, Julia, heavy stuff. On a lighter note, the Gotham City Zoo just added a brand new member to the family yesterday night when a female tiger named Hera gave birth to a male cub-"

The arrogant voice of Jake Hollington was cut short, and Bruce Wayne looked up to see his butler and very close friend Alfred Pennyworth holding the television remote, looking grave. Bruce sighed deeply and stood, rubbing his temples. He began to pace up and down the living room of his penthouse apartment in downtown Gotham, replaying the news story over and over again in his head. He couldn't believe this was happening all over again.. How much more could this city endure? How much more could he endure...

" Sir, I realize that you are not likely to heed my words, but may I suggest letting the police handle the clown themselves?" Alfred said in the British accent that made him sound forever intelligent. "We certainly don't want what happened last time-"

"To happen again, yes, I know Alfred, but I don't think I have a choice. Batman doesn't have a choice..."

Alfred shook his head slowly and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Master Wayne... They're still on the hunt for you. If the police catch you, this city will eat you alive."

"I know! I know... but this- this psychopath cannot be caught by GCPD alone." Bruce shook off Alfred's hand and continued to pace, with the other man looking on in worry. "They don't know how he works, not thoroughly. They'd screw up somehow, and Batman is the only person that can fix it. If not for myself, then for Rachel.. and Harvey. And Cassandra. He could've killed her by now, and no one will have known any better."

Alfred nodded slowly and said "I'll inform Mr. Fox."

He left the room, leaving Bruce at the mercy of his mind.

Pitch black darkness surrounded Cassie when she finally came to. The floor beneath her felt cold and damp, and she shivered as she raised herself into a sitting position. The back of her head ached, and when she touched that spot, she could feel the residue of dried blood. There was a throbbing in her shoulder, where she remembered she had been shot. She placed her fingers to the wound and found a square of gauze covering it, held to her shoulder with surgical tape.

"Hello?" she called out, not really expecting an answer. Her voice sounded hoarse, so she cleared her throat and called out again. And again, she received no answer. She wondered how long she had been here, and whether it had been long enough to raise suspicion and have someone come looking for her...

Cassie was able to shakily get to her feet, but she didn't dare try and walk around, for fear of tripping over something that might have been left behind and forgotten. She suddenly realized that she was freezing, so she wrapped her arms tightly around herself. She felt bare skin on both sides, and realized that the reason she was so cold was because she'd been stripped down to her underwear. Fear gripped her chest as she frantically searched her body with her hands. All she felt were her silk panties and lace bra. Cassie panicked. Had she been raped? Beaten? Left for dead? She didn't feel any pain except for the dull aches on the back of her head and her shoulder, and as far as she could tell, she wasn't bleeding from anywhere anymore. _That could change soon enough, _she thought, now frightened for her life.

Seconds passed, then minutes. She thought about Kevin, and whether it had been long enough for him to be worried. She doubted he would be worried anyway. He _had_ left her, after all...

She tried to remember the last thing that had happened before she'd blacked out. She could recall doing paperwork in her office around 8:00 at night, fighting very hard to keep her eyes open. She remembered the new, very handsome Dr. Tommy Elliot coming in to say good night, but not before he asked her out for coffee the following day. She'd flashed her engagement ring and politely declined. She remembered resting her head on the desk, closing her eyes for just a few minutes...

In a blur of color and sound, the dream she'd had that night came rushing back. She cringed in horror and disgust, and then pain as the memory began to end. She couldn't remember anything after that, and certainly not how she'd ended up here. The overwhelming confusion only fueled her anger, her anger at being such an easy, vulnerable target yet again...

Tears began to spill from Cassie's eyes as she returned to the ground, curling up with her chin resting on her knees. Her headache became increasingly worse as she continued to cry, as if someone had pulled her by her hair to wherever she was trapped. She began to rock slowly back and forth, the tears wrapping themselves around her cheeks and dripping from her chin. She softly hummed an old lullaby her mother had sung to her when she was a little girl, her voice cracking and faltering every so often.

Just as Cassie was about to lose it all together, the image of her long dead father appeared suddenly in her mind, his face young and whole, with those glittering blue eyes that both she and her brother Alex had inherited. He smiled at her, his teeth white, just like before the tobacco and beer had stained them. She imagined his voice, deep and calming, as she remembered the last words he'd spoken to her:

_"I know you must hate me for abandoning you, your brother, and your mom, but you have to listen to me Cassie. I'm your father, and I love you. You're a tough cookie, and you always have been. Maybe it's my absence that's made you so cynical and bitter, but the next time you find yourself in a rough, scary situation, just remember this: You were chosen for this life because you alone are strong enough to live it."_

Defiantly, Cassie wiped the tears from her face and stood, determined to face whoever had put her there. Just as she was about to look for a way out, she heard the distant noise of a dead bolt sliding from it's hold. The room was bathed in light as a door swung open, revealing the silhouette of a woman standing on the threshold. Cassie looked around and saw that she was being kept in a basement of sorts. The walls and floor were all concrete, and there were no windows. She saw crates and boxes, a few empty shelves, and a couple of large dressers and dirty hospital beds placed against the wall. Then, realizing she was still basically naked, she quickly tried to cover herself, to no avail. The woman began to walk forward, her footsteps echoing on the ground. Finally, she was close enough for Cassie to distinguish her features from the shadows.

She was younger, no older than 19 or 20. She had bright, neon orange hair that hung all the way down to her waist and covered half of her face. Her eyes were hazel, and her nose had two hoops pierced into it, one on either side. She wore dark denim jeans, black sneakers, a white tank top, and a light purple hoodie, which clashed horribly with her hair. She lazily held a cigarette between her thumb and middle finger, and upon reaching Cassie, she took a long, slow drag, blowing the smoke right in her face. Cassie couldn't help but to start coughing.

"Oh, stop your hacking," said the girl sarcastically. "The boss would like to see you now."

She turned to leave, but when Cassie made no motion to follow her, she doubled back and grabbed her wrist.

"Come on, sweet cheeks, he ain't got all day." She spoke with a Brooklyn accent, roughly pulling Cassie along behind her.

Abandoning her efforts to hide her indecency, Cassie trudged along behind the strange woman, fearing that the worst was yet to come.


End file.
